The Daughter of Iberion
by moniquebowman
Summary: After having her dreams stolen and being shunned by her prince, Monique finds a need to prove herself. She sets off to bring her doubters El Jefe's bloodied head on a pike. However, the ominous future Halt foresaw has arrived and Mon decides that the best way to serve Araluen is to infiltrate the enemy. Yet as compromising secrets unfold, will her loyalty ever be trusted? PART II
1. Chapter 1

**My beautiful readers, it is finally here.**

 **The Daughter of Iberion.**

 **Firstly if you have just stumbled across this story it is a sequel to The Thief of Caraway. If you have not read Part I then you will have no clue what is happening, who my main character is and basically it is a bad idea to read this without reading the first.**

 **Secondly i have also officially finished The Thief of Caraway and just posted the prologue. If you are a regular please read that first. And please review! I would love to see all of you guys send me a review especially as i have finally finished something that has been 2 years in the making and is more than 500 pages long if it was in bound form. I would really appreciate it especially as i see so many people follow and favourite who never even communicate with me!**

 **Anyway...so i'm sorry the prologue of TOC didn't happen yet but it'll happen in this book. What do you think of my new prologue? I'm excited hehe**

 **More formalities:**

 **This is set after the events of the Lost Stories and ignores the Royal Ranger.**

 **John Flanagan owns the world and his characters but by now i do own a few of my own**

* * *

Prologue

 _The rattle of the chains jerked me awake. I already knew what was to come and it seemed that my last hope had failed me. I smoothed my skirts and stood, chin tilted up and prepared for the inevitable._

 _Many would have babbled out incoherent apologies or stumbled on their knees to beg forgiveness. I refused to give the bastard the satisfaction. I would face the consequences of my actions with more strength and courage then fully grown men would. It would be my final act of defiance. My proof to everyone that I was good enough. I hoped that they would remember it for the rest of their days and that my face would haunt them._

 _The guard pulled on my chains like I was a dog on a leash. I stepped forward and followed him, wordlessly. I refused to be treated like some sort of animal. I had done so much for them yet they were blinded by misplaced loyalty._

 _Out of the darkness I was lead onto the platform that had been prepared for occasions such as this. In times of trial and tribulation for a country, this was always the natural reaction. A fear that they only knew of one way to rectify. It was naïve and ignorant. An approach that took action first and asked questions later._

 _When the harsh morning light hit my face I wanted to look away. Instead, I let my eyes adjust and kept my head steady. I was not going to show an ounce of weakness. Then the jeers started. Peasant farmers stood in their ragged clothes, throwing not only rotten vegetables, but rotten words my way. The nobles were more eloquent in their speeches of condemnation but it didn't make their words hurt any more or less. Each tongue was like the lashings of a whip on my bare back. I wanted to cry out and tell them to stop. Hell, I wanted to run for the hills. But I forced myself to stare with a blank face, appearing emotionless._

 _Their words were damning and they called me everything that I appeared to be._

 _A liar._

 _A thief._

 _A traitor._

 _None of their words were fair. If they just knew the truth, they would be scrambling to thank me. Alas, life was not just._

 _I was pulled to the platform and my jailer struck the back of my knees. I fell to my knees, at the foot of the ominous log of wood. Blood stained what once had been a beautiful oak tree. There were indentations and nicks from where weapons had struck. I wondered how many strokes it would take and hoped that it would be clean. Yet the screams I heard from my cell every day were evidence to the contrary. Many men had got their just penance, I just wished it didn't have to be dragged out so._

 _I put my chin on the wood and looked out at the people who had gathered to watch such a gruesome spectacle. There were a few rangers in the crowd but I knew they wouldn't do anything to help me. I had burnt down that bridge long ago and desecrated the ashes. Some nobles I had once spoken to stared daggers at me. I could see Peters in the back row; furiously talking with a blonde man I had never seen before. Then he gazed sadly at me. He couldn't do anything about it._

 _The only people who knew the truth weren't here to stop it. Halt and Will had said that we could easily fix this situation through a few words with Crowley. He would understand and then the rangers would be on my side. Alyss had said that a Royal Decree would clear up the matter with the rest of the realm. Cassandra had been all too ready to sign it. Edmund had wanted to put me in the Royal Quarters next to him and had thrown a fit when everyone agreed that my name had to be cleared first. Their intentions were good, but it was too late now._

 _"_ _Monique Bowman you have been found guilty of treason against the crown of which the punishment is death." His nasally voice rang through the courtyard. The crowd cheered and I could picture him smiling that smug grin of his._

 _"_ _Do you have any last words before you head is separated from your shoulders?" He asked in a sneer. I kept my lips shut, refusing to give them what they wanted. The people stared at me, waiting for an answer but they weren't going to get one. I wasn't going to explain myself to them. They would find out after I was dead and realise how wrong they were. I wasn't afraid of dying. Especially when my death would mean that my name would never be forgotten. The only thing I would regret are the people I have to leave behind. I hoped they would find peace._

 _"_ _Very well." I heard the steel scrape against its scabbard. It was a double-edged broadsword. A blade more than capable of removing my head cleanly, but I had a feeling that I would have to endure a number of badly aimed strikes. I swallowed the lump that was developing in my throat. I needed to be strong. I sneaked a sideways glance and saw the blade hanging above my head. My heart began to thump. Oh gods I wasn't ready but if this was going to be my last breath then I was going to go out on my own terms._

 _Suddenly a cry rang through the air, but it wasn't one of my own pain. The sword stopped as the people began whispering among themselves. I smiled sadly. It was the sound of a newborn babe. An heir to the throne had been born. A life came into existence, just as mine was ending._

 _I opened my mouth and spoke clearly to everyone assembled. "Long live the future king." Then I smiled._

 _"_ _Insolence girl!" he hissed, hefting up his sword once more. The steel glinted in the morning light and I knew it was time. I closed my eyes and prepared for the end._

Months earlier

As Caesar's hooves rattled across the drawbridge, I knew that I was leaving everything for good. Nothing would ever be the same again. Once, I had entered the castle with high hopes for the future. I had been shown something bright and shiny that I longed for with my entire heart. Now that toy had not only been held out of my grasp, but it had been thrown on the ground and smashed into a thousand pieces. I should have known that nothing would ever be that easy. Things in life were only ever gained through hard work. Even that wasn't enough. You needed to have the audacity to demand what you wanted and not just meekly ask.

And I was no longer going to ask.

The wind whipped my hair into my face painfully. The cold draped on me like a wet cloak. I could see the snow begin to fall and knew that this ride was going to be dangerous but I didn't care any more. I leaned over Caesar's neck and tugged at the reins harder. She responded immediately, her muscles bunching up as her legs moved faster. At my side Wolf picked up the pace. The sight of him was blurring in with the snow but I knew he wouldn't leave my side. He never had before.

It would be about now that Halt and the others would find out that I left. Alyss had known and even if Edmund wouldn't tell, she would. I wondered if they would set out after me. A part of me hoped that they would but another part didn't. If Halt was half as good at reading people as everyone thought, he would know that I needed to do this.

The miles were eaten away under Caesar's strong body. My teeth began to chatter. It was freezing out and for once my cloak was vastly inadequate. I hugged myself closer to the horse and could hear her heavy breathing. Despite the cold, there was a sheen of sweat covering her neck. I knew ranger horses were tough and that she could run for days on end if necessary. Not at a gallop perhaps but at a decent speed. I slowed Caesar down to a canter and she turned her head to look at me. Her eyes bored into me and I felt like she was reading my mind.

 _"_ _I can go faster,"_ she said with a tilt of her head. If I had been in a better mood I would have smiled.

 _"_ _We should rest,"_ Wolf countered, looking up at me with his piercing eyes.

"If Caesar says she can go faster we will," I replied. My dog wasn't going to overrule my decision.

 _"_ _It's almost nightfall. We should find somewhere to stay for the night and then go on. Caesar can't possibly gallop through the night and it's dangerous in the dark,"_ Wolf reasoned. I wondered when my dog had decided to become such a thinker. He was usually impulsive and prone to do whatever pleased him. I frowned at his idea. We were approaching a town which I could tell by how the road was widening. It would be easy to rent a room for the night but it also meant that anyone who had set out right after us would inevitably catch up and that was something we needed to avoid at all costs. Ranger horses were tough and I was going to use that to my advantage.

 _"_ _That's not fair to Caesar,"_ Wolf warned. I could hear Halt's wisdom in his words. The grizzled old ranger would no doubt echo the warning. I had a niggling doubt, remembering that the ranger's forced march involved a rider walking at intervals. It was too cold for me to even consider that. I shook Halt's voice out of my head. I knew what I was doing.

"I know what I'm doing," I repeated for Wolf benefit and to strengthen my conviction. I would also save money this way and get my trophy of a head on a pike much quicker.

"Caesar, lets keep on going," I whispered before pulling on her reins hard. She responded immediately and the force with which I was propelled left me breathless.

The darkness soon came and I struggled to keep my eyes opened. Wolf, though not happy with my decision was helpful in directing the way. Apparently mutts had the ability to make their way through the pitch black. My eyes had sand in them and I tried to rub the irritant out. My eyelids drooped and it took all my willpower to force them to remain open. I would not let the animals do all the work.

After a lifetime, the sun finally began to inch its way over the horizon. In its shades of maroon and purple it contrasted breathtakingly with the snow covered ground. The trees on the edge of the Queen's Highway were depressingly bare with naked branches. There were no farmers in the fields as the harvests had already been gathered long ago. We stopped for a quick lunch but then continued in the gallop. While Caesar didn't make any complaint, I could feel her strides become wearier. Wolf would occasionally give me a knowing look, but I ignored it. We stopped only for meals but otherwise we travelled at almost a gallop.

It was two days before I could finally see the industrial town of Caraway in the far distance. If I squinted then I could make out the castle and garrisons as well as the spirals of smoke that rose from chimneys.

"We made it," I whispered, pleased with my effort. It took a Ranger three days at a forced march pace to make the journey while I had done it in just over two. Who thought that ranger horses weren't tough enough?

"I told you she could make it," I told Wolf, as we stopped on a hill. Wolf bared his teeth at me, not pleased in the slightest. "Just one more little stretch and we'll be there." I slapped Caesar's reins and the horse seemed reluctant, but obeyed.

As we got closer I immediately could sense that something was wrong. Something was off. If you had asked me later what it was, I couldn't tell you exactly but some sixth sense warned me. I pulled my cowl over my head and kept my face in the shadows. Looking down at Wolf, I noticed that his ears were pricked as well in search of any source of danger. My eyes darted around, assessing the town. There was nothing obviously wrong. No dead bodies or screaming women. There was instead in eerie silence. All the houses were boarded up and there was not a single soul on the frozen streets. It was approaching nightfall and in the winter the sun set quite early in the afternoon. Usually people would head home a little earlier and prepare for the freezing darkness. Yet there was still a decent amount of light. People should have been rushing through the streets. Caraway was empty and I knew that something was wrong.

"What happened?" I asked, just loud enough for Wolf to hear.

 _"_ _Something bad."_ Was his ominous answer. Wolf sniffed the air, trying to ascertain the source of our discomfort.

 _"_ _There's something else happening here. There hasn't been a mass murder but the smell is off. As if all the normal people have been replaced by new ones,"_ Wolf said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. Wolf shrugged but continued to look troubled.

"The tavern should be a reliable source," I said, leading Caesar down the main road. If you ever wanted to know the local gossip in an area the first people to ask were the owners of the local tavern. They heard many drunk men and women spewing out stories that weren't even theirs to tell. Will had told me the story of how he had once dressed as a jongluer so that he could travel the country and collect information regarding a supposed sorcerer. Despite the tendency for details to get lost in translation, it proved rather useful and I was now going to use this idea for my own information garnering.

I was so immersed in my own thoughts that it took me a while to notice that Caesar's hoof beats were irregular. One two and three and four was the usual beat but now the last hoof was too slow. I was just going to stop Caesar when she suddenly stumbled, her front legs all but collapsing. She shrieked in pain and I winced at the sound. I knew what was going to happen before it did. However, that didn't mean that it hurt any less.

My backside left the saddle and my body went airborne. I sailed over Caesar's head as my body twisted and I landed awkwardly on my side. Pain shot through my back and travelled to my legs. All the air was knocked out of my lungs and I gasped to take a breath.

The last time I had been bucked, Caesar had looked down at me with amusement in her eyes. This time the only eyes to greet me were the blue ones of Wolf. I rubbed my back and got up.

 _"_ _Look what you did,"_ Wolf accused. I turned my gaze immediately to Caesar who was lying on the ground in clear pain.

"Oh gods," I cried, rushing over. What had I done? I inspected her carefully and she appeared to be alright physically, but a glance at her front hooves and I knew the problem. She had thrown a shoe and now her hoof looked damaged. My heart sank. I had done this to her by my insistence on galloping through the night.

"I'm so sorry Caesar," I said, stroking her mane. Caesar looked at me through her brown eyes but didn't appear angry. It made me feel even worse. I had no idea what to do now.

"Should we take her to a blacksmith to get a new shoe?" I asked Wolf. He didn't look impressed with me, baring his teeth.

 _"_ _You were the expert,"_ Wolf replied.

"You know I don't appreciate this. You could at least try to help me," I shot back. What was wrong with everyone? I couldn't lose Wolf now as well. I thought he would be loyal forever.

Wolf gave a doggish sigh. _"There should be a blacksmith somewhere."_

"Caesar can you get up?" I asked the horse. Her eyelids were half closed and she looked to be in excruciating pain. Her ears recognised the orders of a careless master and despite my stupidness she began to rise with my help. I decided to get her to the tavern stable and then ask for a blacksmith to be called. Although it was late, in winter with not many travellers a blacksmith should be all too happy for some extra work to do. My fingers went to the bag of coins Alyss had given me. She had been more than generous and Caesar deserved the care.

Approaching the tavern I could hear hushed voices inside. Apparently Caraway wasn't as abandoned as it seemed. I opened the door to the stable and breathed in the smell of fresh hay. It was warm and inviting and I just wanted to snuggle into its depths for a second. I helped Caesar into a pen, wondering why there was no stable boy to assist. In a dock town as big as Caraway the tavern owners would be able to afford one in their employ. I stroked Caesar gently as she lay down.

"Sorry girl," I whispered. "I'll get you some help." She gave no reply. Her exhaustion was evident by her heaving breaths and fur wet with not snow but sweat. I could feel my own exhaustion creeping in. I hadn't properly slept in days and my body was aching.

 _"_ _You need to rest,"_ Wolf told me as we walked to the door of the tavern. As much as I wanted to argue with him I knew that my mind was going fuzzy.

"What should our story be?" I asked.

 _"_ _You're a young farmers boy and I'm your dog,"_ Wolf answered. I twirled my hair, copying the snobbish airs of Emily and her sister.

"Do you really think I could pass as a boy in these clothes and my long, well cut hair?" I asked. I shouldn't have worn this tunic. It was too bright and it's cut accentuated my womanly curves – as Cassandra would point out. I was tempted to cut my hair with my saxe right then but decided that I might have to stop my childhood ruse.

 _"_ _Well with your face…"_ Wolf started but didn't finish as I swatted his tail. I took off my sabre and put it in my bag, leaving just my saxe knife. If I was going to pose as a normal Araluen I couldn't have any Nihon-Jan steel.

I hung my head and pulled my cloak tighter before hefting the door open. I was accosted by the smell of hearty soup that set my stomach grumbling. I could also smell the liquor in the air as people used it to warm the parts of their bodies that a fire could not reach. The tavern was packed, with most of the customers happy to nurse a tankard of ale a bowl of soup. It was a cheap meal that could be had in the company of their friends. Yet there were no loud shouts or chuckles of laughter. Heads were bent and there was quiet discussion. At my entry a motherly looking woman with streaks of grey hair, locked eyes with me. I had no idea what was going on so I decided to play the innocent stranger. Being a girl actually helped me this time. I met her gaze and smiled. She didn't return the gesture and instead bustled through the crowd towards me.

"Hallo," I greeted, pushing my hair out of my face. "It's so warm in here. I was wondering if you have a room that I could stay in for the night with my dog Sweetpea here." I stole a glance at Wolf who looked like he was positively fuming at the name. I ruffled his fur, feeling him bristle in annoyance.

"Sweetpea?" She asked. I bit my lip. I should have chosen I different name but I couldn't help myself.

"When I was little I thought he was a girl and called him Sweetpea. The name kinda stuck," I said with a grin. My grin widened at seeing Wolf's bared teeth.

The woman who looked like she was about to give me a worried spiel, relaxed and let her shoulders sag a little. She was worried about strangers. I wondered why.

"Of course we have a room for you dear. My name is Edith. It's too cold for many to venture north. Is your husband or father with you?" Edith questioned. My mind worked quickly. What was the most believable lie?

"I'm Georgie. I'm heading north because we got word that my mam is sick and they say she doesn't have long to live. My husband Con and I have a farm in Greenfield. He would have come but the children are sick and we couldn't all just leave. Poor little Olly and Helena. They were coughing so hard but the minute they improved I headed off to see my mam. I couldn't bear the thought of not being there for her. So here I am on my own with the prayers of the gods and Sweetpea. She may have a sweet name but she can look after me," I explained. Wolf gave a growl for good measure even though he glared daggers at me. Edith looked placated. Now I had established myself as the wife of a good farmer who was looking out for both her children and being a good daughter.

"Does your horse need tending?" Edith asked. "I'm assuming you didn't travel all this way on foot."

I frowned. "I would have collapsed long ago if that was the case. Browner threw a shoe a little while back and I was wondering if there was a blacksmith here that I could have fix it for her."

It was a simple question with an easy answer. Every town had a blacksmith but at my words Edith's blue eyes immediately clouded and her lips pursed.

"Is something wrong?" I pressed.

"We'll see what we can do in the morning," Edith answered. "Right now dear you look plain knackered. How 'bout I get a room ready for you?"

"That would be heavenly," I replied, following her through the tap room and up the stairs. A lot of people turned their heads my way suspiciously. I tried to make light conversation with Edith about my journey and my sick mother. When people heard they seemed relieved. It just made me all the more puzzled.

I smelt horrific and while it didn't bother me in the past, my short time at the castle had made me pay more attention to personal hygiene. I had a bath. A warm bath, courtesy of my gracious hostess. Then I put on a new set of clothes. Riffling through Evanlyn's outfits I finally found a dark green tunic that almost matched the shade of a Ranger's cloak. As much as a despised the institution I had to applaud their ability to camouflage. It was also one of the looser outfits so I looked less like a girl in it. Wolf and I gobbled down lots of food and I asked Edith to get someone to feed and brush down Caesar. I hadn't even made a dent in my bag of coins. As much as I wanted to find out what was happening the soft down of my mattress was calling and I practically blacked out.

† † †

It was the next afternoon when my body was finally rested enough to even think about getting up. I was sore from being thrown and now that I had gotten off my feet my backside was complaining from the long hours in the saddle. I bit my lip and forced myself to get out of bed.

 _"_ _Well if it isn't sleeping beauty,"_ Wolf said, raising his head to peer at me.

"Oh my darling Sweetpea," I gushed. "What a noble dog you have been to me."

 _"_ _I will get you back for this,"_ he warned.

"Whatever," I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. "Are the crowds gathered again? We should go down for food and listen to their conversations." I knew Wolf would have already gone downstairs to see what was happening. He was a smart dog.

 _"_ _It's getting fuller by the minute. You would think they had better things to do than gather around and drink ale,"_ Wolf said.

"The drunker the man, the looser the tongue," I answered. I stopped midstep to muse at my own words. I seemed to be a well of wisdom. I stored the little nugget away for telling Halt some day. He would appreciate it and probably pass it off as his own to tell apprentices. Sadness gripped me and I shook my head. I wouldn't think about that.

"You've finally emerged, my dear," Edith said as I took a seat at a table.

"I was so tired," I answered with a smile. "And now I'm starving." It wasn't long before a leg of lamb and half a loaf of bread was before me. I sat in a little corner and ate my meal slowly. While I kept my head bent, my ears were trying to find anything that could be useful. It was no coincidence that _El jefe_ had set his base in Caraway and now the people were acting strangely. If I was going to catch him I needed to know everything so nothing would come to bite me in the bum.

It didn't take long for the fateful words to reach my ears and if I wasn't so shocked I would have punched myself for being so stupid and not realising it sooner.

"I would have never believed that this would happen to us," an old man said, banging his walking stick for good measure.

"And stuck here in this infernal winter. We all saw what happened to Jonas. Like flies in a spiders web," a much younger and impatient man answered. "All those bloody nobles celebrating when the castle is besieged and the Iberions are knocking on our shores."

I couldn't stop the gasp that escaped my throat.

The invasion had begun.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I sank deeper into my hood and tried to remember the wise words of Halt. I couldn't move a muscle because it was movements that would alert any observers to my presence. I had to be calm and not get overworked. I had to move with the wind and shadows and above all remember that people didn't see what they didn't expect to.

I took a few calming breaths and tried to steady my heart, which was currently pulsing out of my chest. Adrenalin was pumping through my veins and the anticipation made me want to sprint for my target, forsaking the benefits of surprise. Instead, I kept my back against the wall and observed the shadows. It was dark and I had purposely waited till after sun down so that the sunset wouldn't cast any weird shadows that would expose me.

The docks were empty at this time of night. With the invasion well under way, no locals would dare to leave their homes in darkness. As a town that flourished on trade, the docks were wide and could berth twenty large merchant ships. Even more could wait further down the Slipsunder River. The town acted as a gateway that eventually led to the gates of the capital. While there were more garrisons a ship would have to pass through, Caraway was the entryway and a key defensive position. If the Iberian's controlled Caraway then Castle Araluen could be more easily compromised.

I hid behind a barrel of water and peered out at the ships anchored. I did a quick count. There were nineteen docked and this aggravated my unease. I didn't know at the time but I learnt later the three different types of ships that were anchored. The first were ballingers. They were small vessels with square sails and at least thirty oars to propel them when the wind died down. While they could be used for trade these particular ones were being used for the transport of soldiers. They could hold fifty soldiers each and I counted ten ships. I was not a genius at mathematics but I knew that equalled a lot of men. There were then six of a larger, more intimidating vessel called a carrack. Each had two square-rigged masts – the foremast and mainmast – as well as a triangular-rigged mizzenmast. The masts were patterned with red crosses, clearly showing their unfriendly intentions. To further reveal intimidate onlookers, each of the three decks of the ships were lined with giant crossbows. I later learnt that these fired logs as their missiles which were often lit on fire and could breach an enemy garrison. Each ship could fire ten missiles a minute on either side. I could imagine how devastating they would be. Sitting to the side closest to the open water were three smaller ships, called caravels. They were small barges that were triangular-rigged. They were fast and used to deliver messages and scarcely manned.

By the looks of the ships, I knew we were in trouble.

Wolf let out a curse word.

"Don't swear," I chastised.

 _"_ _I think it's appropriate in light of all those ships,"_ Wolf answered, not the least bit sorry.

"I think I should board one of the ships and try to get more information," I said. There was a clear path from my hiding spot to the wooden docks and I thought that I could make it. My cloak was black and if I moved with the shadows I could get there on my hands and knees, like a spider.

 _"_ _And I'll see you in the afterlife,"_ Wolf said, looking down his nose at me. _"I'll tell any pups I may sire that you were beautiful but also unbelievably stupid."_

"What's wrong with my plan?" I asked.

 _"_ _Don't you see the watch?"_

"What watch?"

 _"_ _On the bow of each ships there's a man. They don't move much but obviously they're on lookout."_ I squinted in the direction Wolf was indicating with his head. I did see some figure and it was shaped like a man wearing a conical helmet. I thanked my lucky stars for my dog who had much better eyesight than me.

 _"_ _I accept your thanks,"_ Wolf muttered. I ruffled his ears.

"Well do you have a better idea?"

 _"_ _This entire idea is stupid. You don't even speak Iberian so how will you understand a word they're saying?"_

Suddenly there were loud voices coming from one of the carracks. The light from lanterns illuminated the ship's deck so that I could better see the men. They all wore shining armour and I couldn't help but marvel at the Iberian King's impressive armada. Compared to the usual common folk that were called up for Araluen military duty, all of these men looked trained and deadly. Their weapons were made by expert blacksmiths and they had ships while Araluen didn't specialise in naval warfare. I tried to remember the King's name. Franklin? Frederick? Ferdinand. King Ferdinand. What did he even want with Araluen?

"Come Juan, let us find some ale!" a voice yelled. I gave Wolf a pointed look. They did speak the common tongue.

"Don't be ridiculous Matéo. The _Capitán_ will cut off our tongues," Juan replied.

"Not if we all go," Matéo answered, gesturing to his shipmates. " _Hermanos_ we have been stuck on this ship for days. Let's go and find some _cervaza_ for our lips and some _mujer bonita_ to drink with!" There was a chorus of agreement. Men were so ridiculous. Alcohol and women I assumed were the things they were being easily tempted with.

"I'm staying here," Juan said, standing up straight and obviously not pleased with the actions of the others.

"Oh have some fun Juan," someone said, patting him on the back before around twenty men jumped down from the ship.

"Should we take our purses?" someone asked.

" _Idiota!_ Andrés we just invaded them. We take what is ours!" Matéo said with a laugh. The rest of the men cheered.

As they left I decided that I would board that ship. It would be the least armed right now so that if worst came to worst I could hopefully get away. I had my sabre and my saxe knife at the ready and I wouldn't hesitate to use them.

"How should I get to it?" I asked Wolf, my brain trying to think of what would be the best way to remain unseen. Wolf had vetoed the direct approach so I tried to think of alternatives. I realised that there was a gap between the dock and the moored ships. They were tethered with tarred rope, but didn't directly touch the dock. It made sense because captains wouldn't want their ships to scrape as the tide moved and it gave me an idea. I was small and thin and wondered if I could squeeze between the gap. I would have to hang on with my fingers and climb my way across. It would be tough work and my muscles ached just thinking about it, but one good thing was that the ship I was targeting was not too far from the edge. I just hoped that no one would decide to look overboard.

 _"_ _I don't like this idea either,"_ Wolf informed me, having guessed my intentions.

"Do you have a better plan?" I asked. Why was he so disagreeable today? He didn't like any of my ideas.

 _"_ _It's a good plan except for the fact that you can't swim."_

"Can you swim?"

 _"_ _Of course I can,"_ Wolf answered with a shake of his fur, seeming incensed that I would even ask the question.

"Good. If I fall in you can rescue me," I replied. Wolf didn't reply and I was proud to finally be able to have the last word with him.

 _"_ _If they don't shoot you first,"_ Wolf stated and I frowned at him.

"Lighten up."

 _"_ _You should take your own advice. If you ate less then maybe Caesar wouldn't have such a hard time carrying you around everywhere."_ I hit Wolf. Hard.

"Let's go," I said before we go too carried away. We had to go around the building we were hiding against, as entering on the other side would be easier. We were out of sight of the ships when Wolf suddenly stopped and sniffed at the air.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

 _"_ _Something isn't right. I smell mandrake,"_ Wolf said.

† † †

 _"_ _Halt," I complained. "Can't we go back to weapons training?" The sun was streaming in from the window and it was one of the few days lately where the grasp of winter had loosened. All I wanted to do was practise with my new sabre but instead I was stuck in this room with a quill and a piece of parchment._

 _Naturally Halt ignored my complaint and instead placed a book in front of me. I could make out some of the words but he wasn't showing it to me so that I could learn to read. My eyes instead lingered on the carefully drawn pictures. Each page had a plant or other substance drawn on the margins with a large title, a paragraph of words underneath and then a picture of a human in a graphic death._

 _"_ _What is it?" I asked, my interest suddenly piqued. Reading was far more interesting when it involved pictures._

 _"_ _We're interested now I see," Halt said, raising that familiar eyebrow._

 _"_ _Are these poisons?" I asked, running my finger down the stem of one of the flowers. It looked so beautiful with bright blue petals that were so tiny and delicate that it looked like it better suited a bride's bouquet. However a drawing of a man underneath depicted a wound emitting pus and then the man staggering around, hallucinating and delirious. There were also white flowers of the same kind._

 _"_ _Yes and quite dangerous. We know the Iberians used poisons to kill King Duncan and so we have to be prepared in case they use them again," Halt said._

 _He pointed to the blue flower I was examining. "This is the aracoina flower. It comes in blue and white and it deadly poisonous. It causes deliriousness and hallucinations. It is particularly deadly because not only does the victim appear to heal just before they die, but even if a healer is found the antidote is specific to the colour of flower. If the wrong one is taken then the victim still dies."_

 _"_ _So it helps ensure death by having half a chance that they will die anyway," I said. Halt's eyebrows were lowered in thought and I wondered if he had come across this before._

 _He quickly turned the page. "This is belladonna which is a paralytic. Foxglove is hard to make and not very deadly to all but children. Now hemlock is very dangerous. It keeps the mind awake and death comes from waking asphyxiation. The Toscan's are known for using it. Aconite comes from the plant monkshood which causes vomiting, diarrheoa and then arrhythmic heart function until death. Nightshade you might see from the Arridi and it is deadly."_

 _Halt then stopped at a picture of a leafy plant with strangely shaped roots. They looked almost like little people._

 _"_ _What's that?"_

 _"_ _Mandrake," he answered. "The name comes from two words in the ancient language meaning 'sleep' and 'substance'. It is a poison but if used in dilute quantities it can be used to put people to sleep."_

 _I opened my mouth to ask a question but Halt beat me to it._

 _"_ _If you want to capture someone without a fight then put a cloth with mandrake poison over their mouth and in a few seconds they won't be able to even open their eyes."_

 _"_ _Have you used it before?" I asked, curious._

 _Halt shook his head. "Ranger's don't use poisons. I would rather give someone a good blow to the head rather than fiddling around with this nonsense. You can't control poisons as well as you can control the blunt end of your own saxe."_

† † †

I took a second to process Wolf's words. Mandrake was a poison and used to make people fall asleep if used in small quantities.

I spun on my heal and simultaneously took my saxe out of its scabbard. Poised right behind me holding a cloth stained with green, was an assailant who was wearing a hood to cover his face. Before he even had time to be startled, I lifted my leg and kicked at his hand, causing him to drop the cloth and nurse his injuries. Wolf ran forward and kicked the cloth to one side while I advanced, holding up my saxe, ready for a close quarters fight.

Halt had taught me that poisons were for weak men. People who weren't sure that they would be able to actually slam a knife through someone's gut so they took the coward's way out. Assassins used it on victims during the night or as a precaution in case their weapons didn't work. But at the same time while poisons might be used in cowardice there end result was the same and death wasn't something to be scorned.

If I expected my attacker to be weak, I was completely wrong. After he recovered, he immediately took out a sword. A long broadsword that made me regret my saxe. As he was left-handed I changed my mindset accordingly, remembering that his reach would be different. I didn't waste a second and swapped to my sabre so that I could match him. I stepped forward athletically, trying to impale him on the first go. He anticipated it though, and stepped aside easily. I could have kicked myself. I was being too obvious. For the next thrust I waited for him to move first. He went for a head-lopping stroke and I was about to duck down when I realised that he was tricking me and at the last minute turned to my left, to miss a slice. The blade cut through air, where just seconds earlier my arm had been.

Wolf decided that he had enough and leapt on my assailant, taking his gauntlet covered arm into his vice-like jaws. The man hissed in pain before kicking Wolf square in the belly and sending him flying. I used the second of distraction to angle my sabre just like Riley had taught me so that an opponent's sword would go flying and almost cheered when it actually worked. With his broadsword far away, I threw my sabre aside and tackled the man to the ground. I didn't weight much but with the propulsion of my legs behind me, it was enough to leave my assailant on his back.

I climbed on top of him to keep him grounded and remembered some advice Gilan had given me about sword fighting.

 _"_ _If you find that your opponent is more skilled than you at something, change the game."_

When he had first said I had looked at him as if he was crazy. I thought he was just trying to copy Halt's wise words of wisdom and cracked a joke about how he was becoming an old man as well. Now, I understood. If you were losing in a contest of swords then you had to change it to a battle of fists or a battle of arrows or do something to swing the odds in your own favour. Even if I didn't like the institution of Ranger's anymore, I couldn't refute the advice of my friends.

"Very well done," a familiar voice complimented. "I was wondering if you would continue the sword fight when you were quite out of your depth and I have to say this idea was genius." It can't be. Just when I thought that enough people had betrayed me, another? I pulled the hood on the cloak back and couldn't keep the surprise off my face. Dark blonde curls, clear blue eyes and an easy smile.

"What in Gorlog's name are you doing Riley?" I asked.

"I was rescuing you from being caught by those Iberians," he answered, matter of factly. I remembered that we were in the vicinity of the enemy and breathed a sigh of relief when I didn't see an Iberian patrol arriving to behead me. The noise of the soldiers who had decided they needed a night off was loud enough to cover the sword fight.

"By trying to poison me?" I hissed, putting my saxe to his throat. "Next time you lie, make it more believable."

 _"_ _Remind me not to mess with you,"_ Wolf commented. He had recovered from his blow and brought the green cloth to me, careful to use his paws and not his mouth.

"Come on Mon. I'm an old friend," Riley said trying to appeal to my loyalty but I had had just about enough of stupid males who didn't trust me or were going behind my back. I held the knife even closer till it was just about to draw blood and gave him a cold, unforgiving stare. Halt would have been proud of me. Hell, Halt would have actually applauded my efforts.

Seeing that his words weren't helping, Riley swallowed. His Adam's apple bobbled and if I hadn't adjusted my saxe he would have bled.

"Fine. I'll tell the truth," Riley yielded, putting his hands up in surrender. I wondered why he didn't try to push me off. He could easily punch me or even just push me off him. Even before, he hadn't tried any thrusts that were too dangerous. Yes, he had tried to lop off my head but that had been a fake for merely injuring my right arm. And with the original attempt to put me to sleep, it made sense. He wanted to capture me.

"I was trying to capture you," Riley admitted, too late.

I rolled my eyes. "Obviously."

He smiled. "Beautiful and smart." I wanted to pull out my hair. How had Halt handled holding the King's killer – Warren – hostage? This was infuriating.

"And you learn things so quickly," Riley continued. Now I wanted to pull out his hair. Every last curl.

"I will put out your hair," I warned, grabbing a handful and yanking it.

"Ouch ouch ouch. Okay I'll tell you," Riley relented. "You're smart. You've probably figured out that _El jefe_ has a spy. Someone working for him inside Castle Caraway to help him out. To warn him of raids and send the castle guard on wild goose chases across the countryside."

I nodded. "Obviously." Riley looked like he wanted to point out that I had just used that word but I gave him a look warning him not to. Thankfully he obeyed.

"Well you're looking at him," Riley finished.

"You're the _mensajero?"_ I asked remembering the meeting I had witnessed with Edmund. I amended the thought. The meeting _I_ had witnessed.

"You saw that?"

"Yes."

"I'm impressed. Not only…"

"Don't you dare continue that sentence. Now answer my question: what are you doing?"

"Okay well I left Castle Araluen and I soon followed your tracks to Caraway. You know there's a guard that reports any new people to _El jefe_ but I told them there was no need because I was following you. That's how you got in and no doubt any people you talked to were wondering how a stranger could arrive. Then I followed you, trying to discover what you had found out and decided that enough was enough and that I should take you to my master," Riley explained.

"You followed me from Araluen?" I asked, more to myself than Riley. How hadn't I figured that out? And how had he caught up? I had been going at a gallop the whole time. I guess that explained the lack of hearing him.

"Yes, I did."

"Why?" I was feeling slightly uncomfortable about this.

"I knew what you were going to do," Riley answered. I had a feeling he was not telling me everything and was going to try to get more information out when he continued with his ridiculous rants.

"And I couldn't let you go out alone in the middle of winter. You know there are dangerous people preying on beautiful girls and you are amazing with weapons but I thought you could use…" he trailed off as he saw what I was holding in my hand.

"I warned you," I said as I covered his mouth and nostrils with the mandrake poison.

"Don't do this Mon. I can keep…" Riley tried to fight back but it was no use. In a few second his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he knew no more.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The mandrake was strong and took all but a second to put Riley to sleep. His muscles relaxed and he fell backwards, unconscious.

 _"_ _What are we going to do with him?"_ Wolf asked looking down at the sleeping man. I riffled through my pockets and pulled out some leather roping.

"Tie him up," I answered, getting to work. Bringing Riley's hands together I threaded the rope around his wrists and then between his hands. Casting my mind back I tried to remember what Will had taught me. He said that ranger's no longer just tied a prisoner's hands up as tightly as they could. There was a special method that was difficult to squeeze out of and also more effective when taking prisoners because it could be adjusted at will. It was called a thumb cuff and so I looped the rope around Riley's thumb. Then I took a moment to appraise my handiwork. It looked like a child's handiwork. An uncoordinated child.

 _"_ _What is that?"_ Wolf snorted in derision.

"Not like you could do any better," I shot back. I took another piece of leather and tied Riley's legs together. Technically you were supposed to take off a prisoner's shoes and substitute the big toe for a thumb, but I was not going to do that. Ever. Then I looped the leather around his hands a few more times. Looking around I saw an empty barrel that looked just big enough to squeeze a man under. I pushed Riley into a crouching position and placed the barrel over his head.

Wolf laughed. " _Where did that idea come from?"_

I smiled. "He won't be escaping any time soon." Was there air in a barrel that small? I didn't want Riley to suffocate to death.

 _"_ _There are holes in the wood,"_ Wolf told me. _"Don't worry, you won't suffocate your first prisoner."_

"How are we going to get on the ship?" I mused, peering around the corner. The Iberian's were still out with their _cervaza_ and _mujer bonita_ but I had wasted some time with Riley so needed to hurry up. The roofs of the building extended outwards so that they weren't flush with the walls. This created a short span of shadow on the edge of the walls. While a fully grown man would have no hope of remaining hidden, there were benefits of being a girl. If I made it around, I could reach the end of the dock from which I could drop down and inch my way towards my target. I would be dangling over water, and if I fell in I would probably drown, but there was no other way to get on-board.

I slowly inched my way into the shadows. I was wearing black so any of the guards on duty should not be able to see me, but I knew that any quick flash of movement would be more likely to gain their attention. It was a long and arduous process. Walking sideways and keeping my back pinned against the wall. Wolf ghosted beside me, making no noise with his soft paws. As I moved to the right, I used my right hand to pat down the wall for any possible dangers. I had seen nails protruding from the edges and didn't intend to get skewered. Feeling my fingers enclose around cold metal, I gently touched the nail. The sharp part was sticking out of the wall a fair distance and I wasn't sure if I could pass around it while staying in the shadows. I tugged on it gently. It was quite loose. Slowly I pulled the nail out of the side of the building. Then I paused, just in case it had structural value. When nothing happened I put the nail in my pocket. It was scarred with rust and probably give me an infection if I cut myself, but bending down to place it on the ground would reveal me.

I kept my eyes on the guards as I moved. They had not been replaced in hours so it was the ideal time to try to sneak aboard. At the end of a watch, guards were more likely to make mistakes. The would be tired and bored and ready to be replaced. Halt had told me this and it made the utmost sense.

Eventually, I reached the end of the building and was finally at the dock. Usually trees offered cover as their branches swayed in the wind, causing shadows to dance this way and that. I counted myself lucky that the waters of the Slipsunder had exactly the same effect on the ships. They did not stay still but instead swayed gently so that the shadows were constantly moving. I watched carefully until I felt like I was in time with the wind. I could not describe how I did it. It was more instinct than concrete thought but I got down on the ground and on all fours crawled to the edge of the dock. Then, while covered in darkness I gripped the edge of the wooden dock and hurtled the rest of my body over the edge.

It was only then that I took a deep breath. This next part would require the highest concentration. I made sure that my grip was tight before I swung my legs around. My boots touched the surface of the water. Gorlog's beard! It would only take one mistake for me to be swallowed into darkness. A part of me began to panic as my blood pumped faster. The palms of my hands began to get moist. What if I slipped? What if I fell?

 _"_ _The surest path to failure, is your own certainty that you cannot do something."_

The words of Halt rang in my head. I gritted my teeth and shook my head, so that my hood completely covered my hair. I could do this. Slowly I swung sideways. I let got of the dock with my right hand and was instantly paralysed. I was hanging over water with only one hand, but as soon as I placed it further along the dock I felt much stronger. Each inch I moved, gave me more courage. Soon I passed the first ship. Then my arms began to protest. They were burning from holding my weight up for so long. It felt like someone was trying to pull my arms out of their sockets. I amended the thought. More like yank. I wanted to cry out in pain, but had to bite my lip. The guards might be bored, but they would recognise that sound anywhere. Sharp stinging pains spread through my fingertips as they scraped against the salt worn wood. Splinters furrowed into my skin. It was like I was touching an open flame. I turned my head and felt relief wash through my body, as I had finally arrived.

Now I just had to climb upon the carrack.

I could of course take the wooden plank and cross my fingers that no one would see me, but I would be dead in a second. The only other option was the rope that moored the carrack to the dock. It was thick and tar covered but I thought I could swing myself up. My only worry was my weight. If I swung from the rope, it would cause the ship to bank to the right. If it was anything more than the normal swaying from the water the men would be alerted and I would be dead in about five seconds. My mind worked through the options. My arms were killing me. I needed to do something fast or I would loose grip and fall into the waters below and invariably drown. I would never make it back to the start of the dock, and if I pulled myself up I would be dead in about three seconds.

I put my right hand to my mouth and whistled. It was shrill and sharp and the guards would have heard it. They would have found me, if it wasn't for their gaze being diverted elsewhere. At my whistle Wolf padded out of the shadows and began howling. He didn't bark so loud that all the soldiers would rouse and wonder what was happening, but loud enough to wake the almost dozing guards who surrendered their posts. As the men moved to the left to see what was howling, the ships tilted in that direction. I moved quickly and grabbed onto the rope. Then I began swinging myself, one hand after the other.

 _"_ _Càllate perro!"_ someone shouted. Wolf continued howling to the moon.

 _"_ _Càllate!"_ someone repeated and I heard the distinctive snap of a crossbow being released. I almost yelled for Wolf to look out, but my dog had uncanny hearing and had already darted away. I checked myself. He would be fine and it would do us no good for me to be discovered.

"Oi! He's smart!" Juan, the soldier who remained, yelled. _"Cierre para arriba!"_ Half a dozen more arrows were fired, all of which Wolf saw coming and easily evaded. His attention was distracted however, and I saw an archer from his blind spot place his boot in the stirrup and string his crossbow. His fingers enclosed over the trigger and I knew instinctively that it would be a good shot. Wolf would not survive the next few moments unless I intervened. I knew I might be caught, but I couldn't lose him. Not if there was anything I could do.

"WOLF!" I yelled. His head darted up and he evaded the ominous black shafted arrow. I tried to relax and pray that no one had seen me but I knew I was asking for a miracle.

" _Intruso! Intruso!"_ a man from the next boat down declared. I heard a sharp clanging of a bell as there was an eruption of pandemonium. Men filled the carrack I was trying to climb aboard and the ones nearby. I swore. This was not going to end well. I began swinging myself back and forth, trying to build momentum. If I could just jump onto the deck, I might have more chance of surviving. I would have my hands free and could put my sabre to use.

However mid swing I heard a loud snapping sound. A projectile cut through the night air so swiftly that I could not evade it. An arrow thudded into the hull of the ship, mere centimetres from my torso. My heart pounded in my chest. I had almost died. I had almost died by being pinned to the side of a ship. I was in part lucky for the mans terrible shot. I had not bled, but at the same time the arrow had gone through my cloak, effectively pinning me to the side of the ship. I turned my head to see the man stringing another arrow. I knew it took around thirty seconds to do so. The delay was a reason rangers used long bows. But at the same time thirty seconds was not a long time. I desperately tugged at my cloak, trying to free it. Men shouted at each other and looked over the edge of the deck. They could kill me, but it would be messy from above and the archer from the other ship had a direct shot. In desperation I took out my saxe and began hacking at the soft wool. A part of me felt sad to be ruining the cloak that had served me so well, but sympathy for a piece of cloth was idiotic. The seconds ticked away in my head. I was running out of time. I cut faster and cried out in relief when I finally freed myself. I put my saxe away and was just about to swing aboard the ship when I saw the ominous glint of an axe in the light of the moon. Juan held it above his head as he stared at me with a grim look.

"Noooo!" I screamed, but it was too late. With a steady swing, he cut the rope and I fell into the waters below.

† † †

 _I sat on a blanket beside the lake, staring longingly at all the other children. All the other little boys and girls were splashing around in the cool water, a welcome refreshment on such a hot day while I was stuck on the grass. Grandmamma offered me a cookie but I just crossed my hands over my chest stubbornly._

 _"_ _I want to swim!" I demanded, pointing at the others. The river was shallow and quite safe but a number of adults supervised. Baron Fergus and his retinue even had their own canvas tent further upstream._

 _My mother gave me a sharp look. "It is improper for women to expose themselves so. Look at them. Clothes soaked and clinging to their skin. A daughter of mine will not participate in such tomfoolery." I didn't understand what tomfoolery meant but I knew she wasn't going to budge. My mother took a sandwich. I took her favourite type of sandwich and then proceeded to throw it in the dirt._

 _"_ _Josef, your daughter is throwing a tantrum," mother said, gaining the attention of my father who was busy reading._

 _He looked up and grinned at my glare. "When she's throwing a tantrum she's your daughter, not mine." My mother huffed._

 _"_ _Daddy, I want to swim!" I pleaded, crawling over and sitting in his lap._

 _"_ _You know what your mother said Minny," he tried to reason. "You don't even know how to swim."_

 _"_ _You can teach me."_

 _"_ _Boats exist for a reason," my mother said firmly. "You will never have a need to swim."_

† † †

My arms flailed in the air as I screamed, giving up on all attempts of silence. Then like a slap in the face, my body shattered the surface of the water. It was cold. Freezing. So cold that it almost burnt. I tried to reach for something, anything but all I did was splash around. My head sank beneath the surface and pure terror took over. I opened my eyes and saw darkness. Only darkness and nothing else like I was in a grave of some type. I desperately kicked my legs and flapped my arms, floundering around like a child in the midst of a tantrum. Something that felt like a hand enclosed itself around my lungs and squeezed. I gasped, running out of air on which to breath but only succeeding in taking a mouth full of river water. It tasted like dirt and smoke. I gagged. Somehow I broke through the surface and began spitting the water out and managed to take a deep breath before I was sucked back in again. Water filled my nostrils and I started sinking even deeper than before. My lungs were on fire. My water sodden clothes and fine weapons weighed me down. Every kick took all the more effort. I cursed that wretched cloak. So thick and heavy. It had been stolen and now had come back to bite me. I reached for the clasp of my cloak and tried to wrench it off, but I only fumbled around in vain.

Just as I had accepted my fate I felt a sharp sensation on my forearm. I screamed as I saw droplets of red pervade the darkness. I tried to yank my arm free but the pain only intensified as I was dragged. What monster had captured me? Was there a demon in the depths of the Slipsunder that ate human flesh? I wanted to cry. This was all too much. A voice told me to take out my saxe and fight the demon off but I barely had the energy to wallow, much less fight. The demon pulled me upwards, however, and as I reached the air I emptied the water out of my mouth and filled my lungs again. Blinking away the water in my eyes I looked for my attacker, only to see a sopping wet Wolf biting down on my arm. He dragged me to the edge of the dock while I studied the way he kicked his legs in a veil of stupor. He had saved me, just as I had saved him.

Once at the edge, strong arms wrenched me out and I was flung over a man's shoulder. I watched as Wolf was pulled out as well and immediately muzzled. The Iberian's tied a leather strap around his mouth. Wolf, who was exhausted from hauling my weight, could not do much and could only raise his haunches in anger and annoyance. I could barely keep my eyelids opened.

Slowly it came back to me. They had me, as a prisoner. I twisted my arms, and feeling no restraint, mentally prepared for the fight. I was supposed to capture _El jefe_ , not the other way around. I heard voices but it was all in Iberian and I could not make head nor tail of it.

Eventually they carried me up the plank and onto the ship, pulling Wolf on a leash behind me. He seemed to have given in and just followed along with me. I knew he had fight left in him and smiled at his loyalty. The irony though. I had gone through so much trouble to get on the ship undetected, when knowledge of my presence got me on the ship so easily that I didn't even have to use my own legs. What would they do to me? Why would they even bring an intruder when they could have shot me long ago?

The man put me down while Juan faced me. He took in my sodden clothing and I wrapped my cloak around myself, trying to hide my weapons if I could. Blood soaked my tunic but I ignored it. I looked around, assessing any possibility of escape and saw that it would be near impossible with ten armed men still aboard. Activity on the surrounding ships had calmed down now that the danger was captured and accounted for. I noticed wryly that the mooring rope had been replaced.

The men were talking amongst themselves but hushed as foot falls approached from below deck. There were two figures. One was the captain or as the Iberian's would say _capitán_. Dressed in bold reds and blues, he carried an air of authority. Yet the men lowered their gazes rather then enacting the salute I expected. I turned my gaze to the second figure. Dressed entirely in black there was an aura of mystery about this man. His boots reached his thighs and were quite obviously not bought with a mere handful of coins. A padded shirt and velvet cloak completed the look. I frowned at the shirt. It looked like a corset, only not as bone crushingly tight. I raised an eyebrow in surprise, taking in the figure's body shape and facial features. It was a woman! I studied her face and had to force myself not to look away when her obsidian eyes met mine. They read me and assessed me, even as her full lips, painted purple, curved into a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Who is this?" she asked, using the common tongue so that I could understand. It was obvious that while the _Capitán_ may be in charge of the ship, she was of higher rank. I stored the information away.

Juan stood to attention. "A boy, trying to…how you say… spy on us." He stumbled over his words slightly and colour touched his cheeks.

The woman cocked her head to one side and flipped her auburn braid. "This is no boy. She is a _niña_." I ran my fingers through my wet hair, to make it more clear to them. Being a girl could work in my favour. They would likely be less intimidated.

"I'm not trying to spy! I was just looking for my brother. They say he was taken and his daughter is sick and he needs to be with her," I rambled, making up the lie as I went.

"Then why were you climbing up the mooring rope?" The woman asked.

I bowed my head. "If I walked up that plank I would have been shot."

"Yet you almost drowned with your own idea. Dying by a crossbow bolt is much more pleasant than drowning, I can tell you that much. The screams of the dead man are shorter."

I nodded meekly as those dark eyes flashed. That was blatantly obvious.

"What is your name child?"

"Georgie, your grace." I knew that 'your grace' was the wrong term, but a peasant girl would not. Then again my clothes were not those of a peasant.

"She has seen too much. Shall we dispose of her?" The captain asked. Fear took over my body and it took all my willpower not to show them I was shaking. After all this they couldn't dispose of me. I looked around, seeing if there was any way to escape. If I managed to get past the ten armed men I could either jump in the Slipsunder or straight onto the dock. The first idea would not be good. I mused at the name of the river. Slipsunder. It had a penchant for making me slip under its depths. The second idea would be painful, but if I timed my landing just right and had enough of a run up I could survive.

The woman walked closer to me. She gestured her hand upwards and Juan pulled me to my feet. He held me up by my elbow so that I didn't collapse, or decide to run. The woman's smile widened as she took me in and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I didn't like those obsidian eyes. It was like they could piece back every layer of lies and see who I really was. She took out her weapon, a rapier which glinted in the moonlight, and before I had time to cry out, cut the cloak from my shoulders. It crumpled to the ground, utterly destroyed. I shivered as the wind kissed my wet skin, but I had bigger problems. She could now see all the weapons that I had been trying to hide and raised a manicured eyebrow.

"She is no child! She was here to attack us! Look at that sabre and those knives! Let us finish her" the captain shouted, pulling out his weapon. A number of crossbows were pointed towards me. I swallowed.

"No," the woman ordered, continuing to pace around me. "Let us play a game first." A game? What on earth was she talking about?

Facing me she continued, "How many of these men do you think you could kill?"

"I'm sorry your grace, I don't understand."

"Don't play stupid with me niña! You handle those weapons with confidence. Answer me or you will never get asked a question again. How many?" I glanced around, taking note of their weapons.

"I don't know how many I could kill, but I could get past maybe four before the rest captured me," I answered. I didn't know how right I was, but the estimate was as good as any.

"Then go," she said, taking a step back and I didn't need to be asked twice.

I slid my sabre out of its scabbard and took three strides away from Juan. He was probably the most skilled of all the men given his discipline, and I wasn't going to face him and be defeated straight away. A man with a pot belly could barely hold up his weapon before I sliced through his forearm and then punched the wound with the hilt of my sabre. He fell to the ground in pain. I spun on my heel and knocked a second man in the nose so that his eyes filled with tears and he was temporarily blinded. The I stamped on his heel and pushed him over the side of the ship. He landed with a splash and I didn't even stop to consider whether he could swim or not. As I fought I saw drops of crimson leaving a bloody trail. I was still bleeding and at the thought, pain filled my entire body. I almost fell to the ground, but forced myself to continue. A third man charged at me. My instinct told me to take out a quattro and lodge it in the middle of his forehead, but a voice told me not to reveal all I could to. Instead I stepped to the side lithely and jabbed his ribs. Three out of ten. I was narrowing the odds in this stupid game. Suddenly the world turned on its side as I was hit in the head and went flying. Everything seemed to shake as my consciousness bounced around my head like a bird nonsensically attempting to escape a cage. When the blurs began to clear I saw Juan in front of me, holding a wooden slate.

He pulled me to my feet once more to face the woman.

"Only three," she told me and clicked her tongue. "Disappointing."

Turning to walk back into the cabin she looked at Juan over her shoulder. "Kill her."

Oh, it wasn't going to be as easy as that. I was going to take as many of them to heaven with me before I breathed my last. Or perhaps hell. Who was to know?

As Juan was holding my arm, I put my other hand on top of his and then jerked down with all my strength. He lurched forward and hit his head on the deck. Then I ran towards where Wolf was muzzled and kicked his captor over the railing before the man had a chance to figure out what was happening. I cut the leather around Wolf's mouth so that he could join me.

 _"_ _Lets get these bastards,"_ Wolf said, barring his teeth in a menacing growl. We ducked behind the mast as three arrows thudded into the wood. I stepped out slightly and threw a quattro. A body crumpled. I released two more in quick succession, glad that I had taken these instead of a bow which would have been constricting in this space. A second body crumpled while there was a cry of pain. Eight down.

Then everything stopped and I heard the sound of around twenty crossbows being cocked. The endless clicking noises all but signalled my death. The two ships beside me were lined with men, all pointing those looming contractions at my head.

"I knew there was more to you," the woman said. I threw a quattro, aiming at the middle of her forehead, without a second thought. But she easily evaded it and shook a finger at me as if I was a misbehaving toddler.

"Do something stupid like that again and you will be shot." My shoulders slumped. It had been such a stupid idea to try and climb onto this ship when the Iberian's had such an upper hand. No matter what I did, they always got the better of me. She came towards me with her rapier in hand.

 _"_ _I'll maul her,"_ Wolf said. _"And you run."_

"I'm not leaving you," I said stubbornly. He was not going to give his life for mine. I would not let him.

"Move and you die. I will take great pleasure in killing you niña," the woman said.

"Kneel." I stayed where I was.

"Kneel or they will shoot." I sank to my knees, but glared daggers at her. She ran the cold steel down my neck with enough pressure to scratch, but not enough to draw blood. Today had not been a good day, and was now going to be my last. I closed my eyes.

"STOP!" a voice yelled and my eyes jerked open. For some absurd reason I expected Edmund to waltz up the plank with his emerald eyes blazing and sword ready to spill blood, while Halt and his former apprentices emptied their quivers and downed every single man who had a weapon pointed towards me. But quite obviously I could not envisage any heroics from him on my behalf ever again. Actually, I did not want nor need it. I could save myself, thank you very much. Instead, my former prisoner marched up the plank and glared at the woman.

"What on earth do you think you're doing Silvana?" he spat. I raised an eyebrow at his tone. He was the first person to speak to her with anything less than respect. The first person to even look at her with anything less than fear.

"Killing the spy," she answered simply, as if taking a life was nothing to her.

"Don't be stupid. She's valuable to us," Riley answered. I didn't know whether to be pleased or furious. I was not an object to be valued, but the fact that I could not be thrown away like any normal person was pleasing.

"All I see is that she took out eight of my men," Silvana said. I would be lying if I said didn't feel a small surge of pride at the impressed look on Riley's face.

" _El Jefe's_ men," Riley corrected. "And this girl happens to be the girlfriend of Prince Edmund of Araluen. She has more value to us alive than dead."

"Ex-girlfriend," I all but growled.

Riley raised an eyebrow. "No matter. She will make a valuable hostage." A hostage? I didn't want to be a hostage. While Silvana was distracted I was going to make my jump onto the dock but Riley was too quick.

"Matéo and Andrés, restrain her and the mutt," Riley ordered. I recognised the men from before. They had gone to the tavern to drink and must have discovered and released Riley on the way. My hands were soon tied together, as was Wolf's mouth, and my weapons taken off me.

Only the weapons they could see. I kept my face straight.

Silvana scowled and went back below deck without another word.

"Are you injured?" Riley asked, as he led me off the carrack.

"I'm fine," I answered, my lips tight. I would not show any weakness. This was humiliating enough. I decided to make myself the worst hostage they had ever taken. So annoying and hard to keep tied down that they would be begging to release me.

On their knees.

"I will have to present you in the best condition possible," Riley said, taking my hands and looking at the nicks and scratches. He frowned at the bite marks in my forearm.

"Thiago!" he called. One of the twelve men of Riley's retinue approached. I marvelled at the power Riley held. He was the spy but could still command the men and order Silvana around. Why did _El jefe_ trust him so much?

"She's injured," Riley said simply and Thiago nodded. Riley took me inside a building which seemed to be the Iberian's dock-side headquarters. There were supplies and maps and weapons and I tried to take everything in for future reference. I was placed on a wooden chair as my wounds were attended to. Thiago was gentle in washing away the blood and cleaning my wounds. Whenever I bit my tongue in pain or even flinched, his thin fingers moved all the gentler. He then applied soothing lotion before wrapping my hands up in clean linen. The bites from Wolf were particularly deep and as Wolf saw me wince, he growled, angry with himself. I smiled at him, to show my appreciation. If it wasn't for those bites I would be languishing with the fish on the river bed. When Thiago was done he handed me a pair of leather gloves to put over the linen. Iberian's treated their prisoners well! I wondered how much I was worth. When Edmund refused to pay the ransom or whatever blackmail was planned, I guessed the pampering would end.

Riley untied me and handed me a towel and some clothes before sending me in a small room. The first thing I did was check for any weaknesses so that I could escape. There wasn't even a window in the room and the only light was through a skylight which was three metres above my head. There was no way I could get out of that.

"Stop looking for a way to escape and get dressed," Riley called through the door.

"I am not," I answered, carefully enunciating my words.

"Stop lying." I scowled at the wooden door and heard Riley chuckle.

I ripped off my sodden clothes and wiped myself down. Then I pulled on the leather tights, woollen shirt and cloak – my damp skin a hindrance. I had a feeling these clothes had been worn by someone else recently. By the fit they felt like men's clothes but since they didn't slide off I guessed they were for a small man. Or perhaps a boy. Riling through my old clothes I found the rusted nail from earlier and placed it in the upper pocket of my shirt. They wouldn't dare pat me down there – at least I hoped. I emptied the water out of my boots and put them back on. As I walked out of the room my boots squelched uncomfortably and I was tied up once more.

There was a quattro wrapped in makeshift leather in my right boot. I had remembered Halt's story about the assassin he had tracked down. Hiding weapons in strange places had worked for Warren's advantage against the country's foremost ranger. I would be a fool not to heed some of those lessons.

As Riley led me to the horses outside I walked slowly so he had to pull me along and occasionally stopped dead in my tracks. I tried to wriggle my hands out of my constraints and attempted to step on his feet with my boots. For a while he said nothing but just pushed me harder. I relaxed my legs so that I fell to the ground and Riley almost toppled over. This was my favourite move of late. He grunted in annoyance and yanked me up.

"Stop it." Naturally, I ignored him.

"If you don't stop I'll knock you unconscious," he threatened.

I smiled sweetly. "You wouldn't do that to your star hostage."

Then I cocked my head to one side. "You couldn't do it to me anyway." Frustration laced his eyes. I knew I was right. Even though he had tried to put me to sleep earlier, knocking me out could have dangerous consequences, which he was not willing to take. My suspicions were confirmed. He liked me. More than a friend. I felt like laughing. I was going to use that against him.

Riley nodded. "But I could always kill Wolf. He is not useful to anyone." My eyes darted to where Wolf was being carried along in a wooden cage. He was too much of an unruly demon to be dragged along like me. His eyes were practically murderous and flashed red. It was a small miracle that they hadn't killed him already. Anyone other than Riley would have. I thanked my lucky stars for the time I had spent with Riley at Araluen. It seemed now that dances and flirting could indeed be a matter of life and death.

"So behave or he'll get it." I sighed and followed him quietly.

"Where are the rest of your things?" Riley asked. I wrestled within myself. He would take the rest of my weapons away from me but I didn't want to leave them out of reach in the tavern.

"I have a room at the tavern," I admitted, finally. "And my horse is stabled there." He gestured someone over and told them to retrieve my things. Reaching the horses I looked down at my bound hands and up at Riley's face.

"Are you going to untie me?" I asked with a smirk. He just put his arms around my waist and lifted me into the saddle, like I was a ragdoll.

I scowled at him. "It is improper to touch a lady like that." Edmund would have punched him. I inwardly groaned. I could have punched my brain for going back there. More than anything I was just annoyed at my own uselessness. Being pulled and lifted and prodded like I had no will of my own.

Riley snorted as he tied my horse to one in front of it. "I will treat you like a lady when you act like one. Now put your hands on the saddle horn or you'll fall down. And don't try to escape. There will be horses on either side and behind, riding close and pretty fast. If you try to dismount, you will be crushed and die."

I rolled my eyes but obeyed as Riley and I and his eleven men left. Wolf was stuck in the back of a cart. It was an uncomfortable ride, being tossed around as I held on tight. I squeezed my thighs together to get some purchase, but riding without one's hands was a nightmare.

"Having fun?" Riley goaded from my right. I didn't want to reply but decided to continue being an exasperating hostage.

"Yes very. May we go on these rides every day?"

Riley grinned. "Taking a beautiful girl like you around. Someone up in heaven must be smiling down on me." I rolled my eyes and scowled, wishing that my hands could be released so I could pull out his hair.

The man on my left chuckled. "Oh no Riley, she is no mere girl. She is a _preciosa mujer_." He winked at me.

"Do not worry _niña_ I already have a wife at home," Matéo said. "We need to get Riley a wife so he'll stop being so boring."

"We do not make friends with hostages Matéo," Riley laughed. He seemed to be quite close to the Iberians. I thought back to the conversation I had overheard at Castle Araluen. He had sounded like a reluctant – what had they called him – _mensajero_. Why was he suddenly so engaged in the plan?

"She's going to give us a hard time," Matéo said. I was impressed at his knowledge of the common tongue.

"How do you speak the common tongue so well?" I asked.

He went to answer, but Riley stopped him. "She's trying to find out about _El jefe_. Don't answer her." I shrugged as if the information wasn't important to me anyway.

"We do not only speak Iberian in my home country," Matéo answered, despite Riley's sharp look. "But some speak the common tongue better than others. My mother is from Araluen." My interest piqued.

"What about that Silvana lady? She speaks the common tongue very well." I knew my inquiries weren't subtle in the least, but while Matéo was feeling talkative and I wasn't in a dungeon it seemed as good a time as any.

Matéo and Riley both grinned but didn't say anything.

"Please tell me something at least Riley. You owe me that much," I said. "I'm going to be your hostage anyway so what does it matter." Riley sighed, giving in as I fluttered my eyelashes at him. Halt would probably roll his eyes at my actions, but a girl had to do what was necessary.

"She's Silvana. _El Jefe's_ right hand woman. I don't know what else to say. What she says pretty much goes unless there's a matter involving Araluen royalty. You better not cross her because I don't think she likes you," Riley explained. I filed that information away. Silvana was quite beautiful and I couldn't help but wonder if she was more than just an adviser. Perhaps she was _El jefe's_ lover as well. I shook the thought aside. _El jefe_ and Silvana would not care for such things.

"Who is _El jefe?"_ No answer.

"What are his plan?" No answer.

"How big is the army?" No answer.

"Will you answer any of my question?" I knew there was next to no chance that they would answer, but I could give it a try.

"Do you think I'm that stupid Mon?" Riley asked. "I might be just muscle, but I do have some muscle between my ears."

"A girl can try," I answered with a smirk. "How about a question that could not possibly harm anything, but my pride. How did you escape?" A simple question might loosen their tongues to further interrogation.

Matéo chuckled. "Squealing like a child he was. In that barrel of all places."

I expected Riley to frown but he grinned back. "I woke up in the dark and completely constricted. What would you expect me to do?" Maybe I had gone a bit far with the barrel. That would have been horrifying. I stopped myself. He was my captor and I his hostage. I would not feel sorry for him.

As if to reinforce my thoughts, Castle Caraway came into view. I noticed slight changes, but they made all the difference and it definitely was not the same place. The crest of Caraway Fief – a heron on a forest green background – was gone and replaced by something much more sinister. It was the coat of arms of the King of Iberion. Later I learnt it was the coat of arms of his family, the House of Castile. The flags were in the shape of a shield which rounded to a point at their base. They were split into four sections with either a castle upon a red background, or a red lion on white on opposite segments. The battlements were almost overflowing with patrolling soldiers. Countless crossbows were locked and ready to shoot.

"Who goes there?" a guard called from atop the walls. I had a sense of déjà vu.

"Sir Riley of _El Jefe's_ personal guard, my men and a prisoner," Riley answered. The last time I had been here, I had come as a travel companion with Halt and Edmund. I just couldn't shake his name and it made me angry. Why couldn't I forget him? I needed to if I wanted to be happy. I wondered if he was plagued by thoughts of me. How he thought I had betrayed him. Edmund would be furious. Betrayal did not sit well with him especially, given his past. A part of me wanted him to feel all the pain he had put on me. Another part hoped he would find out the truth. But then what? Could I forgive him? I didn't know who was worse. The twins for framing me, or Edmund for believing I could stoop so low.

I forced myself to concentrate on what was happening and try to track guard rotations or something as Riley lead me inside. I would not think of Edmund. I didn't care about him. I had much bigger problems.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It was only later that I found out how Edmund had reacted after I left. While I had gone off in a search for blood and revenge, his actions were also far from mature.

Edmund held the porcelain vase in his hand, testing its weight. It was one of the many gifts his father had sent to his mother before her untimely death. Made in Nihon-ja, it had been decorated with the landscape of a river, and at its banks peasants worked the rice fields. Each stroke had been hand crafted with care and diligence. The Emperor had once told him that whenever a mistake was made, the painter would be forced by his master to start again. The perfect vases were worth a small fortune. Any slight mistake took away great value. The lilacs of the lilies and the attention to each peasant's almond eyes were perfect in every sense. A wealthy merchant would not send anything less to his wife. Especially a beloved princess. The landscape almost transported an observer to another place where workers sang as the river bubbled by. The scene was peaceful and serene.

Edmund hurled the vase into a wall.

With a resounding crash, the precious vase shattered into hundreds of shards, littering the floor in a rubble that had seconds ago been so beautiful.

Edmund stalked around the room, his nostrils flaring and his green eyes flashing. He couldn't believe she had done this to him. She had been using him for months. Months! Not even a few days or a week. She had planned this for so long it made him feel sick in the stomach. The first time he had laid eyes on her he had thought she was a peculiar boy. Jumping out of trees like an acrobat without a second thought to the danger. He had been even more amazed on finding out she was a girl. Roaming through the countryside with only that wretched mutt for company. He was impressed but also concerned for her. There was just something about her. The freedom she had and her carefully guarded façade that had intrigued him. And those eyes. They were plain at the first glance but the longer you stared, the more entangled you got in the green flecks and golden rings that hid so much heartache. He had wanted to discover all her secrets. To spend a lifetime unravelling all her mysteries. Now he wished that he hadn't been a gentleman. He should have left her in the middle of nowhere. She would never have made it to Castle Araluen. He would never have fallen so deeply for her. He had showed her his mothers balcony for Gorlog's sake! He had never even shown Laura his own sacred hideaway when he was convinced that she would be his future bride. And then admitting his love like an idiot.

 _"_ _I love you Mon," he repeated. "I love how you're real and not some fake. I love how you make me want to be a better person. But most of all I love you. The girl who has stolen my heart."_

She hadn't answered him straight away. It was so clear. She had hesitated. How could he have been so stupid! She must have been laughing at him the whole time and how easy it had been.

"ARGH!" he yelled in frustration. Something had to pay, anything.

Edmund grabbed the edge of a mahogany side table and threw it to the ground, letting the silver tray and the coffee pot on it spill the lukewarm liquid on the rug below.

The worst part was that even if he had never met her, the consequences would have been much worse. Poor Will and Alyss would still be searching for a son who would never have had the chance to live out his life. They would probably still be oblivious to the threat posed by _El Jefe_. Araluen was much indebted to that backstabbing thief.

His hands were trembling in rage. Edmund swore loudly and threw another vase into the wall.

Everyone used him. Everyone. He could never just be a person. All people saw were the title and the riches that came with him. He wasn't a boy or a man or a soldier. He was just a pile of gold reels, waiting to be collected and spent. He thought she had been different and how stupid he had been. She had been the thief. A bloody thief and he had still trusted her. Did that mean she was good at her job or that he had been a fool? That voice in the back of his head that sounded a lot like Evanlyn's advisors told him it had been the latter. That he should have listened to what they said.

† † †

 _"_ _On to other matters, I have heard that Prince Edmund's new girlfriend is not from the gentry?" Sir Geoffrey said twirling his thin moustache. Edmund rolled his eyes at the pompous idiot. Of course he knew Mon wasn't a courtier. He had known long ago and was only pretending as they all did. Trying to tread carefully so as not to anger the Royal beast - but poking it all the same._

 _Cassandra narrowed her eyes slightly. "And?"_

 _"_ _Do you think it is appropriate to house a thief in the Royal Quarters?" Lord Hindle added._

 _"_ _You quite obviously do not Lord Hindle. But I trust her and any jewels are far from her reach if that is your concern," Cassandra answered. Growing up with people who had a penchant for bending the rules – namely Halt and Will – meant she did not always see eye to eye with the men who had been her father's advisors._

 _"_ _Is the Prince's trust in her too great?" Sir Geoffrey prodded. "I do not mean to be rude, Your Majesty, but someone has to ask the hard questions."_

 _"_ _I understand your position Sir Geoffrey," Cassandra responded, but Edmund did not agree with her placating stance._

 _"_ _I don't appreciate you undermining my judgement. I think I can choose who I would like to court and it is none of your business," Edmund retorted._

 _"_ _Sorry Your Royal Highness, but upon marriage, any woman you court will become a princess and may, heaven forbid, bear the future heirs to the kingdom," Sir Geoffrey continued despite the frowns of everyone in the room. "Hence it is the concern of the nation."_

 _"_ _That is highly unlikely," Edmund replied with a glare at the snivelling man. How dare he suggest that Cassandra and Madelyn and even the child yet to be born would all be killed! It was bordering on treasonous. How dare he even tell Edmund what to do? If he wanted to marry Mon this minute he would grab a priest and be at the alter in a thrice and Sir Geoffrey couldn't do anything to stop him._

 _"_ _And even if so, I will do what I want and as your Prince, you will not question me!"_

 _With his final words of defiance, Edmund stalked out of the room. He did not wait for the footmen to close the door and instead took the door handles out of their grasp and slammed it behind him._

† † †

Edmund heard pounding at his door. He ignored it and continued pacing around the sitting room. At this rate he was going to carve a channel in the stone beneath him. The knocking continued, this time accompanied with the sound of the doorknob being jangled about. No one was opening the solid oak door anytime soon, especially as Edmund had had the sense to lock it.

He didn't want to speak to anyone. Word had no doubt spread by now. It was after supper time and he was yet to show his face.

"Edmund," Peters called, knocking louder. "I know you're in there."

"Leave me be!" Edmund yelled back.

"You'll want to hear me out," Peters offered. Edmund clenched his jaw tighter. Yes, Peters was usually his closest confidante. A man who had practically helped raise him and one of the few who he trusted and knew would be eternally loyal. A fresh stream of anger pulsed through him. Or maybe just another who had ulterior motives. He had trusted Mon and where had that got him. Why had Peters dedicated his life to a spoilt little prince and his grieving mother?

"I said, leave me be! Is that so hard to understand!" Edmund ordered.

"I will find the spare key and open this door," Peters warned.

"Don't you dare!" Edmund heard the jangling in the lock and sighed. Of course Peters already had the key. He considered cleaning up the mess he had made. But only for half a second. Edmund continued pacing.

There was a low whistle from behind him.

"What happened in here? Looks like a bear was let loose."

"Shut up Peters or I will force you out. And I will enjoy every moment."

"I don't doubt it, but just hear me out."

Edmund turned and glared at the knight. "Stop saying that!"

"I've spent the whole afternoon trying to clean up this mess for your sake and what I have to say is worthwhile."

"I don't know anything on this damn earth you could say that could clean up this mess. Unless perhaps that fraud was thrown from her horse or something equally terrible happened to her," Edmund all but snarled. He didn't know how much he meant those words. A part of his heart wrenched at the idea of Mon being hurt but then his anger made his blood boil and made him want her to suffer. It certainly felt good to say it out loud.

"She didn't do it," Peters said looking Edmund straight in the eye.

"What are you talking about?" Edmund demanded, stalking towards Peters in a barely restrained rage. Peters did not flinch in the slightest.

"She didn't do it," Peters repeated. Edmund stopped. He was caught off balance. Peters was looking him straight in the eye and wouldn't lie about something of such gravity. Even Mon had denied it herself. But then he had held the evidence of her betrayal in his own hands and no one would ever admit to such a crime. Everyone always betrayed him. It wasn't unlikely that it would happen yet again.

"Stop lying to me!"

"I am not lying to you. You just don't want to believe me because you're hurting Ed. I can see it in your eyes and I understand. That's why you're so angry. You're angry because it hurts to be betrayed. It's all those emotions about your father all over again," Peters said.

"Don't you dare talk about my fath…!"

"We all know that he shouldn't have left your mother in such a state but he is or was a merchant and no doubt had important business to attend to…"

"Stop right now Peters!" Edmund practically bellowed. Peters was just one word away from getting it – straight in the face or deep in the gut.

"But he didn't forget you. All those gifts he sent over the years were him showing his love even if he couldn't be here in pers…"

"I will knock you out, so help me Go...!"

"And the slightest bit of wavering from her doesn't mean the same thing will happen again…"

"He left my mother for Gorlog's sake and you saw what it did to her! It killed her! It's gonna kill me! It never ends well for the likes of us. We're always just used by others for our titles and gold and then abandoned at the slightest incident and made a fool of! The moment she couldn't get what she wanted and become a ranger she cut her losses and left."

"Mon wasn't like that," Peters said, quietly. "She cared about you. She wouldn't do something like that to you. Didn't you see the honestly in how hard she tried to fit in? To live in this world?" Peters gestured to the finery around him. "It wasn't her."

"Then who is Gorlog's name was it?" Edmund practically bellowed.

"The twins."

"The twins?" Edmund whispered. That's what Mon had said. Could it be true? He felt unsure for a second. No, it couldn't be.

Edmund cleared his throat. "Why would they steal? That is absolutely ludicrous…"

Peters shook his head in disbelief. "She told you didn't she."

"No, what are you talking about," Edmund said but with too much hesitation.

"She told you herself that the twins had framed her and you didn't believe her. No wonder she left."

"Why would the daughters of a baron who have all the jewels they could so desire steal? It doesn't even make sense Peters. Think with your head," Edmund continued.

Exasperated, Peters stepped forward and shook Edmund by the shoulders, much like he had done when punishing his cheekiness when he was a child.

"Here me out boy! I heard them whispering in the halls and so listened in. Emily was jealous of your attention of Mon and roped Laura in to help her frame Mon. They had access to the jewels of other courtiers and even put some of their own in the mix. They came to the Royal Quarters and got access because the guards remembered how close you and Laura had been. Emily snuck into your room and stole your signet ring just to top off the betrayal and when Mon left her room they piled it all in her bags. And now she's gone and they're basking in their own success. So who really betrayed you?" Peters demanded.

Edmund shook himself free of the stronger mans grip.

"How dare you treat me like a child? I am the Prince of Araluen. Second in line to the throne. Do not touch me like that again!" he ordered, giving Peters a glare.

"You are impossible," Peters said, raising his hands in surrender. "I told you the truth and you won't even believe me. Don't you even _want_ to believe what I'm telling you? At the first sign of trouble you went running. I know you love her. I know she loves you. End of story. There's no need for a huge brouhaha. You know what. She probably deserves better. After all she's done for this country and for your family and for you, you can't even stick by her. I'm not saying Mon is perfect, but the least you could do was fight for her. You should jump at the possibility of her innocence. Heck you should have believed her when she first denied it and stuck by her side against the twins. But you can't. You're still that angry little boy who was betrayed by his father and could never let it go."

Edmund didn't know whether to lower his head in suitable chastisement or reprimand Peters for his words. They were harsh and cut deep. He wanted to think that he was thinking clearly. That he wasn't involving his past but it was just too hard. It took much more to earn back a trust that was destroyed. He knew that Peters was only trying to help, but right now it was easier to be obstinate rather than give in and admit his own possible pettiness.

"Just get out Peters," Edmund said, dismissing the man with a wave of his hand. He didn't want to deal with all this right now.

"When you come to your senses come talk to me. Hopefully it's not too late," Peters said, giving in.

"Just go," Edmund murmured sitting down on the settee as he heard Peters close the door behind him. He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes. It was all too much. He didn't want to think about it. He just wanted to forget everything. He reached for his bowl of chocolate. That always made him feel better. His mother used to cure all his hurt and pain with a kiss on the head and a piece of the goodness from Arridi. His hand stopped mid way. Now he couldn't bear to eat any. It just reminded him of her.

"ARGH!" He threw the chocolate aside in frustration.

There was more knocking at his door.

"I told you Peters, get out!" Edmund yelled. The door opened regardless and he heard footfalls approach from behind.

"Don't you even know how to obey instruction?" There was no answer.

Edmund shrugged. "I'm just don't know what to do." He stretched his shoulder muscles which were tightening up. Hands put pressure on his shoulder, gently kneading. It was strange. Edmund didn't expect in a million years to have Peters massage him. It was more likely for him to get a friendly punch in the shoulder then anything this tender.

He turned around. "Peters, what are you…" The words stuck in his throat when he saw a feminine figure. Her ebony hair hung loose around her shoulders, contrasting with the bright gold of her jewellery.

"Emily what do you think you're doing?" Edmund asked sitting up and out of her grasp. He didn't want her hands anywhere near him.

Emily giggled. "Helping you relieve some of the pressure that's on your broad and strong shoulders."

"Please go," Edmund said. "You know I didn't want Peters in here. I just want to be alone."

"Peters can't obey instruction, but I promise I'm a good listener," Emily continued, twirling her hair.

"What are you even doing here? I won't be very good company," Edmund said rubbing his temples in growing annoyance.

"We don't have to talk," Emily persisted, taking a seat beside him. Edmund wanted to leave but he refused to be pushed out of his own suite of rooms. How had she even gotten in the Royal Quarters? What had the guards been thinking?

"I'm told I'm good company. And now that your girlfriend has left, there is no need to stoop that low again. My mother is a lady and my father is the Baron of Whitby fief. We should make the perfect couple," Emily rambled. What was she talking about? It rung some sort of bell in Edmund's mind.

 _Emily was jealous of your attention of Mon and roped Laura in to help her frame Mon. Emily hates me and has wanted to be with you for a long time. She set me up._

It couldn't be true, could it?

"I'm with Mon, what are you talking about?" Edmund said, choosing his words carefully.

Emily shook her head in confusion. "But I thought you two were over?"

"Who told you that?" Edmund played dumb.

"Well she left the castle and after what happened…" Emily trailed off.

"And what happened?"

"She stole all those jewels for goodness sake! You aren't telling me that you still want to be with her after that?" Emily burst out.

Edmund suddenly stood up, scaring the conniving schemer who let out a shriek.

"GET OUT!" He yelled pointing to the door.

"Why Edmund?"

"What did you do? So help me Gorlog, if you did what I think you did…"

"Okay fine I did meddle a little, but how is it bad if it means that we can get together," Emily said taking a step towards him with a huge smile.

"I can't believe you! You better leave this room before I do something I regret," Edmund said, his fingers clenching into a fist. Her eyes followed him like a hawk searching for her prey but when she took in his lowered eyebrows and the flexing of his muscle tendons, she gasped and skipped backwards, suddenly frightened.

"Leave," Edmund ordered, his words cutting like a whip – the kind that they used as punishment for prisoners. Emily nodded furiously before gathering her skirts and practically flying out of his room.

It was only when the door closed shut that it all finally hit him.

What in Gorlog's name had he done?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

This time he had ruined everything, he really had. His whole future had been lined up and it hadn't looked bad at all. In fact, the idea of settling down and taking on more responsibility hadn't daunted him as much as it usually did. That huge mountain always blocking his path was no longer insurmountable. Mon was going to train as a ranger in Castle Araluen and he would have been right by her side. He would give her his mothers ring one day. They would have been so happy and then barely able to contain their excitement when little brown haired rascals invaded their lives. Yes, she had thrown him with her quest to find _el jefe,_ but it shouldn't have. He should have supported her – either by saddling up Thunder or wishing her every luck he could offer. How stupid had he been? Throwing it all away because of an old insecurity. No wonder she had been so angry. He had cast aside her sincere word in favour of Emily and Laura, who seemed to constantly cause him nothing but trouble. Wolf should have mauled him till he bled. He deserved every single bite and chew.

Edmund fell to the ground and pulled his knees up like a little child. He rocked back and forth despite that voice that told him he was a grown man. He didn't feel like a man at all, just a lost little boy. So much had been taken from him in the past. He was familiar with that gaping hole in his heart. That was normal. He wouldn't be surprised if one day he had no heart left because of what the world threw at him, but he could handle that. He had always managed to. But this time it was different. He felt lonely and ashamed and guilty and angry and above all that the blame rested on his shoulders.

And his shoulders alone.

† † †

 _Edmund sat on a chair facing the door to his mother's room. He was scared. Her usually dancing green were so lifeless and she struggled to even grip his hand. The best healer in all of Araluen had been brought in by his uncle when the local apothecaries weren't able to cure the simple fever. It was now much worse and Edmund was praying to every god he could remember that Malcolm of Grimsdell Forest would be able to do something. He felt so useless. Whenever he was hurt or sick his mother would rock him in her arms and kiss him on the forehead. Despite being a princess with hundreds of servants at her beck and call she would always nurse him herself. He hadn't wanted to leave her side and had to be physically dragged, kicking and screaming by Peters and his uncle into the hallway. Now Peters was standing watch over him so that he didn't go back inside. He didn't understand. Why couldn't he be with her?_

 _"_ _Peters I wanna see her," he whined, wiping away his tears with the back of his frilly sleeve. Maybe if he played the adorable eight-year-old, he could weasel his way in._

 _"_ _You have to let Malcolm do his job Ed," Peters explained kindly._

 _"_ _But what if I never see her again and I don't get to say goodbye?" Edmund asked, his eyebrows furrowed._

 _"_ _You'll see her again, I promise," Peters answered, trying to project certainty but feeling his own voice waver._

 _Edmund sighed and squirmed in his chair. It was stiff and the material was itchy. "What can I do to help?"_

 _Peters smiled sadly. "Nothing buddy."_

 _"_ _Why did it happen to her?" He asked the question that had been niggling at the back of his mind for days._

 _Peters left his post and kneeled at the foot of the chair so that he could talk to the frightened child face to face._

 _"_ _These things happen Ed, and we can't do anything about it. Your mother is the kindest and most loving person on this earth. She's an absolute angel and she loves you with all her heart. No matter what happens you have to remember that. She calls you her little miracle and little blessing. You are everything to her and she just wants to see you happy," Peters explained, gently. It took everything Peters had not to shed the tears that were threatening to break through his defences. The little prince needed him to be strong right now – a rock through the storm._

 _"_ _Was it my fault?" Edmund asked quietly._

 _Peters shook his head vehemently. "No Ed. Of course it wasn't. Why would you think that?"_

 _The prince hung his head in shame. "I was being cheeky last week."_

 _"_ _Bad things sometimes happen to good people. It was not because of you. Don't you ever forget it." Peters almost seemed to be scolding Edmund with the force of his last words but the boy nodded grimly, feeling a weight lift._

† † †

Edmund stumbled through the halls of Castle Araluen. The people he passed gave him funny looks and it was only when he stopped to gaze into a mirror that he realised why. He hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions and his usually clean shaven face was anything but. He clothes were wrinkled and dishevelled and it if wasn't for the quality of his clothes he could easily be mistaken for a drunkard or beggar.

He took a number of flights of stairs which he somehow navigated without falling over, too many times. In his current state he was surprised that he even made it. He was about to wrench open the heavy doors when he was stopped by two spears blocking his path.

"Stupid guards," Edmund muttered before turning to face them.

"I'm sorry sir but you cannot go in there," the first guard said politely. Edmund rubbed his temples in annoyance. He obviously hadn't recognised who he was stopping, but assumed it was some noble.

"I want a drink," Edmund said, carefully enunciating his words.

"Sir, there is plenty in the dining hall or you could ask a servant to fetch you a bottle from the kitchens. This is the Queen's private collection and can only be opened under Royal order," the second guard said.

Edmund looked both directly in the eye and saw the recognition dawn upon their faces.

"I want a drink," he repeated and almost punched the wall when the metal still barred his way.

"Do you think that's a good idea, your majesty?" the first guard asked, looking concerned. Edmund sighed. He was technically banned from entering after the stupid exploits of his youth, but he thought the rule might have changed by now. It wasn't a huge deal either way. He _was_ second in line to the throne and what was the point of having so much responsibility if you couldn't use it to get your own way sometimes.

"I order you to step aside," Edmund said, his voice lacking the force that usually came with such a directive, but the guards listened nonetheless.

Once inside he perused the rows upon row of barrels, bottles and leather skins - the best batches from the best harvests dating back hundreds of years. It was all stored in a cool dark place and only cracked open for special occasions. Where had his uncle kept all the strong stuff? The stuff even he hadn't dared to drink until now. He walked right up to the back where the rarest of the rare was housed and chose a bottle of brandy wine and then a skin of red wine – both imported from Gallica. He was gravitating towards some ale but knew he would likely drop it all if he dared for more. Dragging himself out and past the worried stares of the guards, he finally made it back to his room without anyone else stopping him. He locked his door but remembered that Peters had the key and so decided to drag a heavy chair and side table to block the entrance.

Edmund sat on the floor, leaning against the settee and stared up at the painting of his mother and him when he was a child. Her eyes absolutely shone and the part that almost always sent him to tears was the fact that she was smiling down at him. Holding him in her arms and staring at him like he was so precious.

He unscrewed the lid on the bottle of brandy wine. He wasn't special at all. He was a blundering idiot.

"I was so stupid mama. I found her and then I lost her just like that and it was all my fault," he said softly. He knew she would be watching over him from heaven – after all she was nothing short of an angel.

"It hurts so much," he continued, feeling a tug at his soul. There was a void inside him that he didn't think he could ever fill again. Instead he would spend a lifetime acutely aware of its existence and with the knowledge that he had dug it out himself – with his own inability to trust and love.

"I just want it to go away." He still remembered what alcohol could do to you. Make you forget everything – even if it was only for a few hours. But after the short relief, the pain will always come back much worse, accompanied with vomiting and a headache. The hole would still be there, right where he left it. He knew it all but didn't care. All Edmund wanted to do was drown away his sorrows.

Bringing the bottle to his lips he took a deep swig, feeling the hot burn that trailed down his throat like a poison already destroying all it touched. "I'm sorry mama. I know I shouldn't but I don't know what else to do."

He gulped down some more, getting used to the strength. Oberjarl Erak had once joked that he could hold down ale like a true Skandian. He had been right at the time and Edmund wondered if it was still true.

"How did you do it mama? When my father left you all alone. You couldn't drink and you had no one to turn to but you stayed strong for me. I didn't deserve you," Edmund all but rasped out. He head was beginning to spin. He was glad. He just wanted it all to go away.

And soon it did.

Edmund didn't know what time it was when he finally woke up. He looked at the empty bottle of spirits beside him but was sure that he hadn't drunk the whole thing, before he realised that he had managed to spill a considerable amount of the expensive liquid on the fur rug. He shrugged, his pain was still numbed. It was time to move on to the wine. He uncorked the wine skin and let the cool liquid coat his tongue. It was tangy and rich – as good as he remembered. A voice in the back of him mind scolded him, sounding increasingly like his uncle but he pushed it aside. His mother, his uncle and Mon. He had lost them all.

There seemed to be a pounding in his head. An insistently loud noise like knuckles rapping on the side of his skull. Edmund winced and moaned, but refused to feel sorry for himself. Any pain he felt was his own fault and he deserved it all.

"Edmund!" a distant voice called. Edmund sat up groggily, realising that the knocking was coming from the other side of his door.

"Let me in," Cassandra continued, fiddling around with the key and then trying to push the door open, but to no avail. The wood scraped painfully against the carefully placed chair and side table. Cassandra was not getting in unless she had her carpenters cut the door down or Edmund himself let her in.

"You've been holed up in here for days. You missed supper yesterday and the day before and it's the next morning already," she informed him. Edmund looked down at the empty bottle. That stuff was stronger than he thought. His stomach grumbled now, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in days, but he didn't care and brought the wineskin back to his lips.

Cassandra banged louder. "Don't you dare leave a pregnant woman out here knocking on your door! I will have this door cut on its hinges if you don't let me in! I swear I will. You know what I'm like pregnant!" And Edmund did. When she was pregnant with Maddie, Cassandra had a penchant for demanding the strangest of foods and upon receiving them from the stressed and worried kitchen staff she would change her mind or find the food lacking and take over the kitchens to prepare her own meal. The then Master Palin had thrown a fit when the Princess considered the pie that he himself had baked from his secret recipe, so low a standard that she had to prepare her own. He practically had a mental breakdown and left the castle. Rumours circled that he had moved far away to Alpina and to this day fainted at the sound of her name.

He sighed and stood to his feet shakily, like a newborn foal standing for the first time. He slowly pulled the furniture away before resuming his seat, surrounded by his choice of drink.

"Can I come in now?" Cassandra demanded.

"If you want," Edmund answered, taking another swig.

Her gasp was audible from across the room but Edmund was past caring.

"Gorlog's beard. What on earth are you doing?" Cassandra whispered. "It smells like spirits in here. Did you open some brandy wine?" Edmund didn't bother to respond but just held up the bottle so that she could see it over the back of the settee.

"You've been drinking again? You promised my father you wouldn't! How could you Edmund!" she demanded, marching towards him.

"Just go," Edmund said. He just wanted to be alone. Alone and numb and painless, even if it was temporary.

"You look horrible," Cassandra stated, crinkling up her nose in disgust at the sight and smell of him. "When did you last bathe, or change your clothes. Ugh and you spilt everything on the rug like a drunkard. What's wrong with you!"

"She left," Edmund muttered. "And it's all my fault. I didn't trust her."

"So Peters was telling me. What I don't understand is why you're drunk," she scolded, picking up the empty bottle and prying the wineskin out of his hand. Edmund didn't have the strength to challenge her. He could see the beginnings of her baby bump in her figure hugging dress and didn't want to cause Cassandra undue trouble. He would never forgive himself if she lost the baby because of him. It would be yet another thing destroyed at his touch.

"It makes the pain go away," Edmund answered, looking up at Cassandra's worry creased face. She had aged so many years in the face of a few months. He wondered how many of those wrinkles on her forehead had been his fault.

"Explain this to me. You're sitting around moping because you humiliated Mon and broke her heart?"

Edmund didn't bother to answer.

"You're moping while she's out risking her life for the sake of this country? You're pathetic," she reprimanded.

"I know," Edmund whispered, bowing his head in shame.

"Edmund it hurts me to see you hurting," Cassandra said. Edmund was silent.

"I punished the twins," Cassandra continued. "I can't have two manipulating and deceitful girls roaming around the castle. They left this morning with their parents. Both are banned from ever setting foot in this castle again. I did it quietly of course, for the sake of their father and since their older brother will inherit anyway. The jewels were returned but no one really wanted to press charges. Laura will still be an apothecary but only for Whitby, not this castle like she wanted. I wanted to take that away from her completely, but she's so skilled and we would be at greater loss than her. Emily will miss out on parties which seems like the only punishment that can get through to her. Most of the nobles know about it, but the common people hopefully won't find out. They're both practically ruined. They tried to argue that Mon used to be a thief and that this wasn't fair. I told them what I thought of them, in the queenliest way I could manage. Mon had stolen to survive. They did it out of spite which is completely unacceptable and they ruined all this for you…"

"I appreciate that Cass, I really do, but it was my fault. Not theirs," Edmund interrupted.

"Are you coming down for breakfast?" Cassandra asked. "Or are you going to mope for longer?"

"Mope."

"I understand. I remember how I felt all those years ago when I offered Will the chance to stay at Castle Araluen and he rejected me. I know this is different for you, but it hurt all the same. Just remember that sometimes things have a way of figuring themselves out. If you two are meant to be then nothing can come between you," she continued, bending down to meet his red rimmed eyes with her own steady ones. "And I have a feeling fate has intertwined your lives together, even though officially I shouldn't believe such nonsense."

"You should stop being so nice to me. I don't deserve it," Edmund said.

"Codswallop! You're family Ed and we stick by each other through thick and thin." She tenderly ruffled his hair like she had when Edmund had been a chubby little toddler, and she his cousin who was fifteen years older.

After Cassandra left he had a few moments to think it over, and smiled for the first time in days. She had really listened to their argument about putting family first and he appreciated it. He hadn't lost _everyone_.

His next visitor didn't even bother to knock. In fact, if it wasn't for the creaky hinges on the door he would never even have heard Halt enter.

"It's stinks in here," Halt's gruff voice said from across the room. Edmund sensed that Halt was ghosting around the room but didn't hear a single footfall. He heard the rustling of fabric as Halt pulled the curtains aside, exposing him to the full force and brightness of the morning sun.

Edmund quickly shielded his eyes, too accustomed to the darkness. "Close it!" He knew his protests were futile and then gasped as Halt threw a jug of cold water over his head.

Edmund pushed his sodden hair off his forehead and then glared at the grizzled ranger who matched him with a look of disdain.

"You look like a bloody drunkard, boy," Halt stated.

"If you're just hear to insult me, you should leave before I have you thrown out," Edmund snapped, annoyed.

Halt smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. He looked more like a vicious dog, baring his teeth to his prey. "I'm quaking in my boots."

"Okay I know I messed up. Here I am moping because I wasn't there for Mon and I should have believed her and stuck up for her. But I didn't and now she's gone forever. I think I have sufficient license to brood, so if you would please leave me alone it would be much appreciated. Also maybe have someone send up some ale or something," Edmund burst out.

Halt just raised his eyebrow, making Edmund want to swear. Thankfully, he had the sense to keep his mouth shut.

"Let me get this straight. Mon has left and your solution is to stay locked up in your room, drowning all your pain away?" Halt stated, finally. Edmund nodded slowly, unsure if this was a trap or not.

"And here I thought that your brains would put all the other knights to shame but it turns out you're the biggest ninny of them all!" Halt practically roared. "How do you think she feels? You say you love her but at the first sign of trouble you go running in the other direction. She's out there showing everyone what she can do and you're hiding in your room like a coward."

"Well what do you want me to do?" Edmund asked.

"Do you want her back?" Halt asked.

"Of course," Edmund answered.

"Then why are you sitting around here sulking? Get off the floor, you don't deserve her like this. Go get her, and pray to the gods that she'll have you back," Halt said, wondering why he was giving the young man advice on love. It was not like he had much experience in being spontaneous. He had taken years to propose to Pauline.

Edmund stood up and began to walk around his room, carefully avoiding the spilt spirits. Halt was right. He would find Mon and apologise. He should maybe take her a present. Or maybe get on his knees and do some grovelling – even though he was a prince and did not beg to anyone, he could make an exception. Especially for her. He would join her on her mission and when they had successfully killed _el jefe_ maybe then she would forgive him. Thinking back to the confrontation he knew the present had to be big. Jewellery was always good with women but maybe not in this case. Maybe more weapons? But that didn't seem personal enough. Maybe a horse? He smiled. A well bred horse. She would appreciate that instead of borrowing that stupid ranger horse. There was a snow white mare in the royal stables. She was bred from the fastest Arridi horses and was a gift from Wakir Selethen of Al Shabah for Cassandra's coronation. Actually he had bought three horses and he was sure Cassandra could spare one. He just had to think of the perfect name.

Halt coughed and Edmund turned his head in the direction of the older man. "What now?"

"You might want to take a look in the mirror before you head out. She won't have you back looking like misplaced nobleman who can't even bathe, or shave. I can lend you my saxe if you want." The last part was said with the utmost sincerity that Edmund wasn't sure whether to solemnly accept the offer or laugh. In the end he did neither and just stood in front of a mirror. He did look horrid, with alcohol stained clothes and bloodshot eyes. He took a whiff of his shirt and almost passed out. He smelt worse than the stables before they had been mucked out.

"Yeah I need to bathe," he admitted finally.

Halt gave him a small smile. "Go and win her back." Edmund raised an eyebrow in surprise. He didn't know the grizzled ranger was so partial to a little romance.

Or, that he had a second life as a matchmaker.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I kept my head still, but my eyes were flitting around like a child who had been taken to a sweets store. Halt had taught me that in scouting the enemy it was best that they did not realise what you were doing. It soon became clear though that there was no hope. Hundreds of soldiers all holed up in a well-fortified fortress. Not only that, but there were hundreds more at the dock with ships that could travel down the Slipsunder and wreak havoc on the towns in its path on the way to Castle Araluen – the jewel at the heart of the country. The full force of the Araluen army might be able to lay siege to the castle and with the ingenuity of Will and Halt eventually take it back, but that would be a long and arduous process, hindered further by the fact that winter had pervaded the landscape and travelling armies did not mix well with snow.

We were officially doomed.

So I moved my mind back to my own pressing problems. I really needed to figure out what my next course of action was. I was at the centre of their operations and well placed to learn valuable information that I could pass on to Cassandra and Halt. While Crowley was technically the Ranger Commandant, he had lost all his credibility in my book and I preferred to deal with Halt – only he and his apprentices and the younger members of the force were capable of bearing such prestigious and awe-inspiring titles. I doubted the full invasion would be happening soon. King Ferdinand had planned well. His soldiers would be a steady force in the countryside for the next three months – until spring came – and would be able to establish their strength so that by the time an army could be sent, the original small wound would have time to fester and spread. They would be at a stronger position than when they originally landed and harder to get rid of. However, the very same winter meant that both the Narrow Sea and Endless Ocean would be death traps, and no King in his right mind would send a fleet of war ships to certain doom. I guessed that the full invasion would start as soon as the waters leading to Araluen became safer for ships to cross.

In the meantime, I could collect information and send it to Halt, but I had no pigeons to send information by. My writing skills weren't up to scratch either. Maybe I could persuade Riley to continue my lessons while I was a prisoner in the dungeons. Importantly though, I could put a name to the title _el jefe_. It would humanise him and give Halt something to work with. It wasn't much, but at least it was something. If I managed to kill _el jefe_ that would be ideal but with the level of protection he had, it would also be a death mission.

The drawbridge was slowly lowered and I realised too late that once it was pulled up again, I was not leaving Castle Caraway unless someone paid a lot of gold reels. It was the only way in or out and was heavily guarded. My hands were tied and I was trapped on my horse, as helpless as a newborn babe. I really needed to change the odds.

I squeezed my thighs tighter, so I wouldn't fall out of the saddle. Then I inched my hands up, painfully slowly. The Iberian's didn't know the genius behind thumb cuffs, and with all ten fingers at my disposal I managed to slip the rusted nail out of my right breast pocket.

"It always takes them _años_ to raise it," Matéo stated, turning to Riley. "How long did it take your men?"

Riley's features immediately darkened. I could see the conflict in his eyes. He didn't like Matéo's question in the slightest. It threw him. _Your_ men. More specifically, the men that Riley had trained with all his life and now betrayed. I wondered what had happened to them. Had they died? Or were they trapped in a dungeon somewhere. Whatever the answer was, it affected Riley. He hadn't done all this without a thought to the people he was affecting. He just tried to forget it.

"Less time," he answered, finally.

I slowly began to rub the metal against my binds. My palms were bandaged, but the leather gloves I wore meant that I didn't have to worry about accidentally cutting into flesh and getting the rust in my blood stream. Still, I could hardly move my wrists. This was going to take a while and I needed to buy time. And the best way to buy time, was to create a scene. Do something big that attracted everyone's attention, so that they didn't focus on the little things.

"You disgust me," I said, turning to Riley.

"Excuse me?" he answered.

"Don't play dumb with me. You trained with those men your whole life and then you turned them over to the Iberians? How could you? They trusted you and you forsook this whole country! You traitor! You bloody traitor!"

 _"_ _Language!"_ Wolf cackled from his cage. Naturally, I ignored him.

"Shut up."

"Here you are laughing with the Iberian's and making jokes. Do you have no shame? What happened to all those good men? What's going to happen to Baron Quinn? Did you kill them all? Are you going to kill the Baron when he comes back from Araluen? Gorlog's beard! Did you kill his wife and daughter?" At some point in the middle of my fake speech of morality, I realised that I actually needed to know the answers to my questions.

"Shut the hell up!" Riley repeated, more forcefully this time. People were beginning to stare as the bridge finally lowered. I angled my hands so no one could see what I was doing. I felt the rope give way a little. I still needed more time.

"I will not shut up! Someone needs to speak out against this! Parading around like some Knight who is honour bound to protect the people, and going against Queen and country at the first chance. What did they offer you? A title, money?"

"I will gag you if you don't shut up. I've been treating you well. Others might not be so kind," Riley said. Our horses began to clatter over the wood and above the moat. Time was running out.

"Why should I shut up? I'm already your prisoner. It can't get much worse for me," I said and then inwardly smiled as an idea hit me. I would be lying if it didn't give me a great deal of joy. I collected my projectile carefully, pursed my lips and then spat straight in Riley's face.

My timing was impeccable.

Riley swore and wiped his face with the back of his hand. The guard the duty caught the end of it and started rambling in Iberian. He was the Captain of the Guard, identifiable by the crest on his helmet. The yelping from Wolf that sounded suspiciously like high pitched laughter turned into a growl when someone grabbed me from my saddle and threw me on the ground – while Riley had his head turned away. But I was ready and pulled my wrists apart, breaking the rope, allowing me to land softly and roll back up to my feet lithely.

The man who had thrown me to the ground, came running towards me with nothing but a knife that he was still trying to get out of the scabbard. He obviously hadn't oiled it, and was struggling, giving me the time to simply stand in front of him with the heel of my arm facing upwards. It hit the bottom of his nose and threw him backwards with blood streaming down his face. I held the nail in the palm of my hand and pierced the forearm of my next attacker. He screeched and turned away. A path was cleared to the drawbridge and as I spotted Wolf's cage, I began to run towards him. I would free him and then take a horse and pray that it was fast enough to get me away.

However, my plans came to a screeching halt as a pair of strong arms enclosed around my waist. I twisted and thrashed around, trying to break free but the man was too strong. In my struggle I lost the small nail that was my only weapon. I was lifted back inside the castle as I heard guards gather to block my exit. I was thrown to the ground and groaned as my face hit the cobblestones. I lifted my head to spit out dirt and came face to face with a black leather boot. I swore as it crushed my upper arm.

"Stop! Get off her you _idiota_! Don't you know how important she is?" Riley's angry voice rang through the courtyard. The boot disappeared as Riley threw the offending man to the ground with such ease that I would be lying if I said I wasn't extremely impressed. He then lifted me to my feet, inspecting my injuries with a frown.

"When will you learn?" he asked to no one in particular. "Do I have to lock you in the dungeons?" I went to spit in him face again but he glared at me. I swallowed with an impish grin.

"Someone get her a chair," Riley ordered. It took less than ten seconds for his wish to be granted. Riley plonked me on the chair. If I wasn't a prisoner I would have smiled gratefully. Being thrown to the ground had pushed air out of my lungs and I took long, settling breaths while enjoying the guards getting told off.

"Don't any of you ever touch her again! She is a valuable hostage and every little nick and scratch lowers her value and I can assure you _el jefe_ will not be pleased!" Riley bellowed. Yes, I was. I should be looked after and not thrown out like a burnt rabbit carcass. My thoughts drifted back to the events at Castle Araluen.

 _"_ _Are you thinking about lover boy again?"_ Wolf asked. _"Do I need to bash your head in as well? He's bad news. You can do better."_ I pretended to ignore Wolf but his words struck a cord. Why was I bothering with Edmund? I should just forget about him. Obviously he was an idiot. Why should I let him keep on hurting me by thinking about it? I should just forget him. He probably wanted to forget me as well. That way I could move on.

" _Sï, señor,"_ the Captain of the Guard said, removing his helmet and bowing his head towards Riley. Riley grunted in approval. However, when he turned away the Captain looked around angrily. He was not happy in the slightest that a young man of barely twenty years had more power than him.

Riley gestured towards the cage Wolf was in. "Someone bring the dog." Two men with arms as big as those of Skandians, lifted Wolf up without so much as a grunt of exertion.

"Come on," Riley said gently, offering me his hand. I had spat on him and he was still being nice to me? He was so confusing.

 _"_ _Men,"_ Wolf chorused from his prison, uncharacteristically cheerful and agreeable for a dog in his position.

I took his hand slowly, wondering if it was some sort of trick but he only placed his arm on the small on my back and began leading me towards the castle keep. Someone saw Riley across the courtyard and jogged over lightly. He wore a burnt yellow cape over well-crafted armour. His surcoat was a lighter yellow with _el jefe's_ insignia of a snarling black dragon at the top right. I shivered involuntary. The man passed Riley a matching surcoat and cape, and he quickly changed out of his own plain black. While the rest of the soldiers bore the red of King Ferdinand, _el jefe's_ personal guard were singled out in yellow. It worried me how easily Riley could change his insignia – like his loyalty was as fickle as the clothes people threw at him.

The man approaching us looked me over, smiling in recognition and then patting Riley on the back. "Well done, son."

"Captain Grant?" I blurted out, remembering the man with short fair hair and a neatly trimmed beard who I had met on my last trip to Caraway. It made sense. Of course both he and Riley were traitors together. Two birds for the price of one royal. _El jefe_ had outdone himself. I remembered the stories of the bandits roaming the countryside and sending Baron Quinn's men on wild goose chases. It would have been so easy to orchestrate with the Captain of the Guard working for the enemy. It made me so angry. How had they both given in so easily? Corrupt fools.

"Lady Monique Bowman," Grant greeted me with a nod of his head. "Our illustrious guest."

I frowned back. "Just Mon. And I would prefer prisoner."

Grant shrugged. "As you wish."

"How could you both do this?" I exclaimed, unable to hold it in anymore. "Shame on both of y…" Riley's hand clamped over my mouth, forcing the rest of my tirade back down my throat.

"She's quite chatty," he said. "Where should I put her? The dungeons are quite damp and as the Prince's girlfriend I thought he might want her somewhere better. Maybe a room?"

Grant chuckled. "I forgot she and the Prince were courting." If looks could kill.

"We have rooms with those small windows right? I could post a few guards outside. That should be enough till he comes back," Riley continued. _He_ comes back? I assumed he was talking about the elusive _el jefe?_

"As long as she doesn't escape I don't think it matters," Grant answered. Riley nodded and continued our journey, now practically hugging me with his right arm on my back and his left across my mouth. He smelt like oil – the type used to keep weapons and armour in pristine condition. Not nowhere as nice as Edmund. Ugh. I needed help.

 _"_ _You certainly do,"_ Wolf added, unhelpfully.

The stairs spiralled upwards on the left-hand side. Halt had told me that this was an entirely defensive construction. It was so that any defenders would have the advantage to an attacker, who would have to expose their entire body before being able to use a sword with their right hand. Of course, if the attackers were all left handed – like Riley – then it wasn't as helpful, but most swordsmen were right handed. About one floor up, Riley led me through a corridor and into a small room. There was a small cot in a corner, a chair and a table with a jug of water. There was a tiny window and a small fireplace that crackled softly. The two massive men placed Wolf's cage outside the door.

"The walls are made of stone and the door is iron, so don't even think of trying to burn yourself out of here," Riley explained. "I'll be back with _el jefe_ later. These two will be outside so don't even think of escaping. And before you try it, you can't fit through that window. You're skinny, but your head will get stuck if you try and I don't fancy spending my afternoon sliding it free."

He handed me a packet of dried beef and gently shoved me inside, my mouth finally free of his hand. "Here's your breakfast."

Finally alone I did a quick check of the room and indeed there was no way to escape. I could try adding the wooden beams of the cot to the fire to try and make smoke. The guards might come running if I was so precious and I could make a run for it. But I doubted I could create much smoke with just wood and no leaves. Also I didn't fancy burning to death.

It was funny how all this time my own tired, hungry and aching body hadn't seemed so important. But without anything else on my mind, my body finally gave in. I scoffed down the jerky – as fast as was possible with such a dry and chewy meat. I took off my boot and emptied out my quattro, bringing my last hope to my chest. Then I lay down on the cot and closed my eyes. Halt probably wouldn't approve, but I figured if I was in any danger Wolf would bark the castle down.

A few hours later my eyes shot open at the sound of Wolf barking like crazy. I took the quattro out of its sheath and jumped to my feet. There was no one in the room yet but I heard voices from outside. I put my ear to the iron door. The voices were muffled and I couldn't make out anything. There was a creak and I jumped back as a small food door was opened and a bread roll chucked on the ground. However, the shouting continued as did Wolf's barking. There was a thud and a whine. Wolf shut up immediately. What were they doing to him? What was happening? I focused in to the conversation which was quite helpfully in Iberian.

 _"_ _Dejar que ella sea,"_ Matéo said.

 _"_ _Cállate!_ Araluen _amante!"_ a voice yelled. I took a peek through the hole in the door. It was the Captain of the Guard. Gorlog's beard, I was in for trouble. I tightened my grip on the quattro. From what I heard, I guessed Matéo was trying to protect me. But from what?

 _"_ _Déjame tener que!"_ the captain continued. He gestured to the door. What did he want with me? Fear gripped my heart. Gorlog's beard! Fear rushed into my veins. I wished someone was here to protect me. Halt, Will, Cassandra or even Edmund.

The door flung open and the captain slowly walked inside, his beady eyes searching for me on the cot. My back was pressed against the wall behind the door so he didn't spot me immediately. I was so scared that I almost didn't move, but some instinct forced my body forward as I somehow managed to run out and shut the door behind me. Matéo looked at me stunned. I glanced at Wolf and saw him lying in his cage, completely knocked out. I wanted to rescue him and take him with me, but he wasn't even able to walk on his own and I couldn't carry his weight. Matéo started to move but I darted for the stairs and practically flew right down them, my feet as light as a stag. The fear was pushing me on but when I reached the courtyard and the sun hit my face, the reality hit me. How was I going to get out of here? I needed to find a hiding spot. My head darted from the left to the right, completely abandoning ranger's training.

"Mon!" Riley yelled, spotting me. This was my chance to escape. I ran blindly, not seeing where I was going but just needing to get out of the castle. However, I missed the gate by quite a few metres and instead thudded into a broad chest, falling on my backside.

Pandemonium broke out.

There was yelling in Iberian and yelling in the common tongue. I just sat in a dazed heap and was as lifeless as one of Maddie's dolls as Riley dragged me to my feet yet again.

"He brought the Prince's girlfriend right into this castle," the Captain of the Guard accused, pointing at me. "No doubt she will be spying on us and scouting out our numbers!"

Riley sighed in poorly masked exasperation. "Shut up Pablo!" He let go of my arm and bowed deeply. My eyes widened. It couldn't be.

" _Señor_ I found her. Look at her _ceja_. Look! And she looks just like your _esposa_ from the _pintura!"_ I was confused. _Ceja? Esposa? Pintura?_ It was strange but the words seemed to click into place. Eyebrow. Wife. And painting. The scar above my eyebrow suddenly became important.

I looked up at the man who was the director of the plan to disturb the peace in Araluen. The man who was behind all the assassinations, kidnappings and invasion. The man we had been fighting for weeks and months. He was tall and muscular, but had the belly of a man who enjoyed his food. He wore a burnt yellow cape just like his personal guard, but his own armour looked like it was coated in gold. His hair was dark but greying at the temples and his dark blue orbs stared right back at me.

My mind was spinning. It couldn't be. It was impossible. Many things had happened recently that had surprised the crap out of me, but this blew everything else out of the water. It defied the laws of the universe.

How could the dead wake?

"Minny?" _El jefe_ asked, as he stretched out his arms in desperation.

My response was choked out in complete, and utter shock.

"Daddy?"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

At my words the wrinkles that lined _el jefe's_ face seemed to instantly smooth themselves out. His shoulders sagged, finally able to get some rest. A giant grin hijacked his features as he bent down to cradle me in his strong arms. He hugged me close to his chest, as he had when I was but a child but my body didn't respond. I stayed stock still while my mind began to buzz.

"You came back to me, Minny," he murmured, kissing my cheeks, his full beard prickly on my skin. "I prayed and prayed that you would come back and God answered my prayers."

What was happening? How was this happening? I thought he was dead? I had been so sure of it. Both he and my mother had been killed in a fire while in a drunken stupor. My mind went back to when I had returned to my old house in Caraway. A lady on the street had said that they had burnt the house to the ground and her husband hadn't been able to save them. Was she wrong? Could she have been mistaken? But then why would she lie about something like that?

I never expected to be hearing from that part of my past again, much less being wrapped in its arms. The grave was a talisman of finality, but apparently it could be overcome.

"I thought you were dead," I blurted out and instantly regretted my choice of words. What a marvellous think to say to _el jefe_. What a marvellous thing to say to your own father. I could have smacked myself across the face.

He pulled away and stood me back on the ground. "No, why would you think that?" He seemed surprised, not offended or angry. He was different than how I remembered, more controlled and sure of himself. I wondered if that was because of the small crowd who had gathered around us, curious at the reunion between their boss and his long lost daughter. I didn't think he would hit me in their presence. Maybe this new side of my father could also be attributed to the lack of alcohol on his breath. While I hadn't seen him in four years, I hadn't seen him sober in much longer.

"Your house burnt down," I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. He was confusing me. I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn't even know where to look. His blue eyes were too piercing for my liking, assessing me and never wavering. If Halt was here he would chastise me for my flittering gaze, but I couldn't help it. I looked down at my mud stained books, studying the soft leather with feigned interest before I felt like I was being rude and lifted my gaze back up to his face.

It all felt so wrong. I knew that technically he was my father, but he wasn't even supposed to be alive and he certainly wasn't supposed to be some sort of Iberian army general. How was it all possible? When had all this started?

It was like I had been thrown into the Slipunder again. I was clueless. I didn't even know whether I should take out my sabre and lop off his head, or run into him arms like I used to do when he came home at supper time.

My hands clung at my sides uselessly and I suddenly became painfully aware of them. I clasped them together and then felt stupid so I occupied them in smoothing out the creases in my shirt.

"That it did. But your mother and I managed to make it out in time," he answered and then paused to look at the crowd of soldiers listening in to our conversation. "How 'bout we continue in my private chambers."

I nodded but he didn't even bother to see if I was alright with his decision before calling over a servant. The man had been cowering in the shadows and I guessed that he had been a servant under Baron Quinn before the Iberian's took control. He hands were trembling with fear and two guards had to hold his arms so that he didn't fall to the ground. His head was bowed and his long grey hair flopped over his forehead.

"Tell the cook that I will be having morning tea in my chambers. I want a sponge cake with cream and jam. And tell him that if he sends up that solid fruit cake again I will have his useless hands and complaining tongue cut off," _el jefe_ threatened. The servant nodded incessantly, his head bobbing up and down.

"Did you want tea or coffee, Minny?" he asked, turning to me. I swallowed, aware that he had just threatened a man and then changed to civil conversation in all but a sentence.

"Coffee," I answered. Hopefully it would help me think. Right now though, I really didn't want to be alone in a room with him. He was my father, but we didn't have the best track record. I had been scared of him the last time I had seen him and now it was worse. Even though I had the weapons and ability now that would have kept my drunken father at bay, his own power had grown in the years since and he had a bloody army at his beck and call.

"A pot of coffee then and the good stuff from Ariddi. Nothing short of the best for my daughter," he continued, putting a hand on my shoulder. I had to force myself not to flinch. My gaze wandered until I made eye contact with Riley. I tried to send him pleading looks. I wanted him to come with me. He was a traitor, but so far if it wasn't for Riley I would have been dead, or worse.

"Please," I mouthed as he gave me an imperceptible nod of his head.

"Would you like me to accompany you _señor?_ " Riley asked. I could have kissed the boy, if it wasn't totally inappropriate for hundreds of reasons. Well maybe only two – all the people around us and a certain prince who I couldn't seem to shake off just yet. Actually, there were probably three reasons if I included how much it would entertain Wolf. The laughter might actually kill him.

 _El jefe_ waved him aside. "My daughter and I will be fine." I felt sick. I couldn't do this alone.

"Actually you could help explain things Riley," I said. Riley glanced between his commander and me. We both knew who would have the final say.

"If you want," _el jefe_ conceded with a shrug of his shoulders. "Since you were the one who found her it seems appropriate." Found me? What did he mean by that?

Riley bowed his head in deference and fell in step beside me as _el jefe_ led us to the castle keep. His soldiers moved to the side to make way for us, like a river splitting in two for a warship. We climbed the many stone stairs in silence. I dared not speak to Riley as we were well in ear shot of _el jefe_ and the man himself seemed to be contemplating the recent turn of events. We reached the top floor and a servant opened the door to Baron Quinn's study.

"In here Minny," _el jefe_ said, standing to the side so I could enter. "I haven't had time to redecorate it, but it will have to do. I don't know why Araluen's have such a fascination with keeping stone walls bare. It's so bloody cold. A few tapestries would be a nice addition."

I nodded absentmindedly and sat on one of the wooden chairs facing the overbearing desk and leather winged chair behind it. Riley sat beside me and _el jefe_ sat at the head of the table as if it and the castle rightfully belonged to him. He had absolutely no qualms about what his men had done. What would happen when Baron Quinn came back? He had been at the funeral and coronation for the past few weeks and I figured he would be back in a few days with his banner men. He wouldn't just accept this situation, but he had no chance of laying siege to his own castle and winning it back.

 _El jefe_ leant forward and peered at me. I forced myself to pull my shoulders back and keep my head level.

"Why are you dressed as a boy?" he asked, curiously. "Don't get me wrong, I don't mind but your mother would get heart palpitations at the sight of you."

I shrugged. "I want to do more than just dress up and recite poetry."

He grinned. "That's my girl! When you were little you hated all the dresses your mother bought for you. But look at you now with a sabre and weapons and escaping from my men so many times."

He paused. "You've killed a few as well and injured a lot more."

I cringed. "Sorr…"

"Don't apologize!" _El jefe_ boomed. "I couldn't be prouder of you. My daughter showing all those idiots that she can't be contained and that she's better than them. They'll be getting punished for laying any unwanted hand on you. Your mother wouldn't have anything less and neither would I. After all you are their superior in rank and they should be bowing to you."

"Bowing to me?" I asked, incredulous. I was nothing special. I had been estranged from my parents, rejected by the Ranger Corps and shunned by the Prince of Araluen. All that was left was a common thief. No one needed to be bowing to me. There were a few who I wanted to see on their knees in front of me in the process of kissing my boots, but only after I showed them how wrong they were and made them pay.

"You don't remember do you?" _El jefe_ said, looking surprised. "I thought you did but I guess you were so young when you left."

"Remember what?" I asked desperately. I turned to look at Riley but he looked just as out of the loop as I was.

"You are not Monique Bowman. That's just the name that we took when we came to Araluen. Your grandmother's maiden name was Bowman before she married my father," _el jefe_ explained.

"My grandfather was nobility?" I asked carefully, uncertain as to where this was going.

 _El jefe_ shook his head. "No, your grandfather was Generalísimo Franco Romero, commander of the King Fernando's naval armada. He had been to Araluen before and fallen in love with Lilliana Bowman. It was a test for him to prove himself and see if he could take this island nation for his king. But he sent his ships in winter and most were lost at sea and only a few ships limped back home." I struggled to try and keep up with what I was being told. So this had started way back with my grandfather? What did this have to do with what was happening right now?

"I don't understand."

"Let me finish," _el jefe_ instructed and I shut my mouth. "Father went back home to Iberian and continued his duties as commander. But he couldn't live with the shame of defeat and it wasn't long before he passed on. King Fernando is called _el cazador_ – the hunter – because he never gave up on his idea of conquering Araluen. When you were just four years old he decided that if my father couldn't do it, then maybe I could."

I closed my eyes trying to process the information. "The whole time we were in Araluen we were living a lie?"

"Not a lie Minny. Your mother and I and grandmamma knew exactly what was happening. You were just a child so we didn't tell you and you wouldn't have understood either way. The problem with my father's invasion plans were that they were too drastic and too soon. He thought that by sending over a few ships the Araluen's would give over their land. Grandmamma told him that he was wrong, but he didn't listen to her. I knew that it would take _years_ of planning and plotting. The timing was wrong for the first invasion anyway. It was before the defeat of that Lord of the Mountains of Day and Night, Morgy - something or other. Araluen had its own internal problems to deal with. But when we came, it was a five years after the rebellion and while the country was still rebuilding it was easy to slip in."

"So King Fernando was funding you this whole time?" Riley asked. I looked sharply at him, expecting _el jefe_ to chastise his interruption but the man only leant further in.

"He was, until his death eight years ago." My mind shuffled back in time. Eight years earlier I had been nine years old and that had been around the time that grandmamma had died and my parents had taken to alcohol to soothe their burdens.

"Is that when you turned to alcohol?" I said, not realizing until after I had spoken that my words had been barely a whisper. _El jefe,_ however had heard them and nodded grimly.

"We lost our funding and around the same time mamma died. We were in a foreign country away from friends and family and without any money. Your mother began to loathe me. I can't tell you how sorry I am for what happened for the next few years. It was about three years afterwards that King Fernando's son remembered about the roots that his father had established in Araluen and sent men and provisions over. By then you were long gone. They dragged us out of that wretched house and slapped some sense into us, and then burnt it down so that everyone would think we had died. Your mother and I were taken back to Iberion to see the king who set in motion new plans," _el jefe_ explained.

"Where is she?" I asked, half expecting her to burst into the room with a pink dress for me to wear as she yanked my hair up into a bun.

"Back in the Iberian Royal Court," he answered. "She flat out refused to come back to the 'land of barbarians' as she likes to call it. She is immensely popular there with her stories of greatly exaggerated adventure. And as much as she hates to admit it, the cooler weather in Araluen did give her a complexion envied by most ladies in court. She may not be the youngest lady in court but she is by far the most beautiful. You look exactly like her." He smiled lovingly at me and I tried to smile back. It probably looked more like a grimace.

There was a timid knock on the door, as if the knocker was too scared to disturb us but at the same time didn't want to be late with the food requested. A petite young woman scurried in with a tray carrying a large cake. It was three layers tall with jam and cream oozing out between the layers of sponge. There was a scattering of wild berries on the top and a generous dusting of white sugar to top it all off. Behind her came another woman with a coffee pot and three mugs on a tray. Both were trembling so much as they placed the trays down that the china clattered noisily. _El jefe_ gave a disapproving grunt but said nothing, much to the relief of the two girls who practically ran out of the room after giving a horrific attempt at a curtsey. Under the circumstances I doubted I could do much better.

 _El jefe_ made no move towards the food and it took Riley a few seconds to figure out that it was his duty to serve the both of us. He carefully poured out three mugs of coffee.

"Sugar?" he asked.

"One," _el jefe_ answered, accepting the mug and then a slice of sponge. I wanted honey with my coffee – having grown accustomed to it – but I couldn't see any on the tray and decided not to ask. If _el jefe_ knew that I hadn't been given what I wanted he might have someone killed.

"Sugar?" Riley asked, turning to me.

"Two, please." After he handed me my mug and cake I gave him a smile. I took a bite of the cake and had to suppress a moan. After days of hard rations, something this sweet was heavenly.

"Do you like it?" _el jefe_ asked with a smile. I nodded eagerly, my mouth too full to speak without spitting crumbs everywhere.

"Good. I shall have the cook prepare whatever you so desire." The idea of him being _el jefe_ still made my insides crawl but if my insides were filled with cake and sweet then maybe it wasn't so bad. Halt would be throwing me over the side of the castle for even entertaining the traitorous thought, but thinking of the food…

"I still don't understand how your daughter is nobility," Riley queried. I shivered at the term. I didn't feel like a daughter at all, just a girl caught in a strange situation. I still half expected to wake up in Castle Araluen with my whole life back on track.

"You have noble blood through your mother Minny. Your full name is María Katalina Leonor," he said, the words rolling off his tongue easily.

"María?" I interrupted, dumbfounded. My name wasn't even Monique? None of my middle names were even Monique. What was happening? It was like the world had turned on its head.

"María after your mother. Katalina for my sister and Leonor for your mother's little sister who died when they were just children," he explained. "We always called you Minny as a child because you looked so much like your mother. When we came to Araluen I took the name Josef instead of José and your mother took Mary so that we could blend in easier. Your grandmamma chose the name Monique. After her grandmother I think."

"Mother has noble blood?"

" _Si._ Her full title is Lady María Federica Isabel Elena de Aragon y de Romero. She is the only daughter of Nicolás de Aragon, your grandfather. She has three brothers, all older than her so the title is out of reach but nonetheless her name gives her many privileges in court. The House of Aragon has never been poor. Your grandfather only has four grandchildren including you and your mother has always been his favourite so he allowed you to take the title as well."

"So my name is Lady María Katalina Leonor de Aragon y de Romero?" I could somehow pronounce the Iberian words without much trouble. They sounded musical to my ears but my links to the invading nation were concerning. I didn't think anyone would ever trust me again.

"Romero is not officially a noble house. It is my fathers surname but he was a brilliant general and the name alone impresses all Iberian's." The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together but there was still one thing I didn't quite understand.

"And what does Riley have to do with all this?" I queried.

"When we arrived we needed men on the inside and Riley and his father generously volunteered," _El jefe_ said with a smile. I snuck a glance at Riley who was clenching and unclenching his fists under the table, his entire body becoming stiff. There was more to the story. Riley was a traitor and I hated him for it, but he didn't seem like the type to change his allegiance as flippantly as that. He was honorable and had treated me well.

"Your father had all of his closest advisors on the lookout for you. We were scouring the country for a girl of your age and appearance," Riley explained. He had men looking for me across the country? Araluen wasn't the biggest nation in the world but searching for one girl was pretty much impossible. For the first time I looked at _el jefe_ with something other than fear or curiosity. Despite what had happened when I was a child, he had truly tried to make up for his mistakes. This one good act wasn't even close to outweighing the bad, but he was making progress in my eyes.

"Is that what you meant by eyebrow, wife and painting?"

"I knew what you might look like from the painting if Lady María that his Lordship has in his quarters. The painting is from when she was around your age and the resemblance is uncanny. I also knew that you might have a scar on your eyebrow. You don't know how surprised I was to see you with the prince that day you came to Caraway. When I heard what your name was I instantly knew I had found the right girl and I tried to keep tabs on where you were. I only told your father my suspicions because I didn't want anyone else to catch on and use you as leverage or something," Riley clarified. I gave him a warm smile. Maybe Riley wasn't so bad. He had been looking out for me for months. It had been his job to find me, not to be kind and generous with his time.

"Everything worked out marvelously!" _el jefe_ said. "Now I can send you back to Iberion to your mother while I finish taking this land for the King." I processed his words carefully. Wait, what had he just said?

"Back to Iberion?" I shouted in surprise, jumping up from my chair.

"Sí, your mother has big plans for you. You are her daughter and a lady after all," _el jefe_ explained. All my plans to stay calm were thrown out of the window like the contents of a chamber pot.

"No, no, no. I can't go to Iberion! I have to stay here. I have to show them what I can do," I burst out. I could just imagine the looks on all their smug faces when they found out who I was descended from. A great general who had tried to take Araluen and a powerful Lord who held sway with the Iberion Royal Court. Merlon would practically be licking his lips with joy and would probably use it to further his own position in the Ranger Corps. Edmund would have all the more reason to hate me. Even if I wasn't a jewel thief I was the daughter of the man who had killed his beloved uncle.

I could feel the bile creeping up my throat. I needed to get out of this room. That man standing in front of me had ordered the kidnapping of poor little Danny and if I hadn't been there, would have killed a toddler in cold blood. A shiver ran down my back. He had taken Cassandra's father from her and the man who had been Edmund's father. He had taken the life of the much loved king of this nation. He had torn apart the lives of the people who had taken me in and been so kind to me. They were my friends and had believed in me and done everything they could to help me achieve the impossible. How could they ever see past this and forgive me?

The room began to spin as I tried to find the door. I needed to get away from all of this. I needed to get away from everything and everyone.

However, as I looked up the door opened and Captain Grant rushed in, not even bothering to knock. As he did, trumpets began blaring from within the castle walls.

"Your Lordship, Baron Quinn and his men have arrived back! The main group is outside the gates but a few snuck in through a secret side entrance and they're creating havoc. They released the men we had locked up in the dungeons!" Grant announced, breathing heavily from the exertion of climbing all those flights of stairs so quickly.

 _El jefe_ drew his sword and I gaped at the size of the broadsword that took two hands to wield. Beside him, Riley did the same.

"Well then it's time to show Baron Quinn who the true Lord of Caraway is."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 _El jefe_ and Captain Grant ran from the room to join the blood bath raging below. I had seen how many men had laid siege to and taken control of this castle. Baron Quinn and this small retinue of men, while full of courage and noble cause, would stand less chance than a bird flung into deep waters. Releasing any men locked up in the dungeons did help, but they would be without weapons and were likely half-starved. All I knew was that _el jefe_ has caused heartache while Baron Quinn had been kind to me. I couldn't see that man parted with his head.

Without a second thought I rushed out of the room but stopped as Riley stood at the door with his arms out, blocking my way.

"Move," I said, meeting his unwavering gaze with me own. He didn't move an inch.

"Stay in here. It's safer for you. If anyone finds out who you are, you'll be taken hostage or worse," Riley said.

I cocked my head to one side and raised an eyebrow in a silent challenge. "And you're going to keep me in here?" He knew as well as I did that he wasn't going to stay in this room babysitting while his men were giving their lives. And while there was a lock on the study door, it was on the inside. I could see the indecision behind his clear blue eyes as he thought through his options. The only things keeping me here at the moment were his broad shoulders.

"Your father will not be impressed," Riley replied.

"You mean the man who terrorised Araluen and everyone I know for the past few months?" I countered, blowing my fringe out of my face. "I don't give a flying pig what he thinks."

Riley gave me a pointed stare. "He'll be furious at me and you have no weapons. We took those off you, remember?" I reached for my sabre at my hip and realised he was right. I could have slapped myself for being so stupid and impulsive. Almost rushing into a battle with nothing more than a quattro tucked in my pocket.

"Well go and get my sabre and knives then," I said. Riley merely raised an eyebrow in reply.

"As Lady María Katalina Leonor de Aragon y de Romero and the daughter of the King Fernando's foremost general I command you to retrieve my sabre and knives and then move aside," I repeated with more force. For a second Riley paused, incredulous that the order had actually left my lips. I was just as surprised. A week ago I would have rolled my eyes at some upper class spoilt brat uttering the exact phrase and directing servants as if they were less than human, but right now it felt good. When no one even trusted my honest word, this little bit of power that flowed through my veins was so tempting to invoke. I had seen Edmund and Cassandra use their birthright to direct men and run the country and having a small slice was intoxicating. When Riley gave a small sigh and dipped his head in my direction, the power surged. If I could get him, a leader of men, to obey me then all the foot soldiers were practically at my beck and call. I was in control and nobody could deny me anything. I could have and do anything as long as _el jefe_ agreed and he seemed to want to do anything to make it up to me. This was entirely better than having the Ranger Council sneer at me. Stupid men. I was going to show them.

Riley brought me my weapons and presented them to me as a squire would his knight. I couldn't hide my satisfied grin and fully armed myself.

"Be careful," Riley said before hurrying down the stairs.

I followed right behind him, my boots soft on the stones while his scuffed loudly. A few floors down I recognised the frantic barking of my beloved mutt, still confined to his cage. While Riley went ahead I backtracked, finding the room that I had first been locked up in. Outside the demon had practically burst out of his own cage. Wolf was butting against the wooden bars and almost flipped the cage on its head before I let out a shrill whistle. He recognised it, and stopped immediately.

 _"_ _What happened to you?"_ he asked, noticing my emancipated state. I found the keys to the cage discarded on the floor and set about freeing Wolf while I tried to explain everything that had happened.

 _"_ _He's your father?"_ Wolf asked, was incredulous.

"I can't believe it either," I said, fitting the key in the lock and turning it. Wolf bounded out, and I had to quickly step aside to avoid being knocked over.

 _"_ _Are you going to kill him?"_ Wolf questioned, staring straight into my eyes. _"It would be simple and would show those bastards just how wrong they were."_

He was right. _El jefe_ trusted me and it would be almost child's play to sneak up behind him and stab him in the back. Once that was done I could cut off his head and be on my way, hopefully without being noticed in all the chaos. Yet, I couldn't help feeling that it wouldn't be the end of it. The Iberian's needed to be stopped at the source and if _el jefe_ was dead King Ferdinand would just send another general to do his bidding and we would be on the back food again. Right now we had an advantage. _El jefe_ trusted me and I could learn of their plans and feed the information through to Halt. It could be done so simply and I could single-handedly change the course of this war.

 _"_ _Are you strong enough to do that though?"_ Wolf asked.

"What do you mean?"

 _"_ _You're going to have to pretend to entirely for the Iberian's. Make them trust you and turn Araluen against you. Can you handle that?"_

Could I handle it? So many people didn't trust me but at the same time many still did. Did I want to turn them all against me? Could I live with the hate and the shame and the disgrace. I didn't know.

I shook my head. "I don't have time for philosophical thinking Wolf." I didn't have to make a decision right at this moment, did I? I needed time. Maybe some sort of instinct would take over and I would know what to do.

Running out of the keep, the coward in me wished that I had stayed locked away in the Baron's office. The haunted screams of men bleeding out filled the air, joining the ringing of steel and grunts of exertion. Forrest green faced the blood red of the King of Iberion. The burnt yellow of _el jefe's_ personal guard was scattered around and I noticed with disapproval that these men tended to stab their enemies in the back, not caring that their actions were far from noble. While the Baron's men had surprised the invaders, they had little chance of succeeding while arrows were continually being rained on them from above. The evidence lay at my feet. A man, pierced with a crossbow bolt, clutched his chest, desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood staining his surcoat. His crazed eyes looked up at me, pleading for help but at the same time wary as my white shirt showed no allegiance.

A hulking green figure ran in my direction, his battle axed poised above his head. I knew that I wanted to save Baron Quinn's life but was I going to kill all the men that got in my way? I thought about explaining myself but seeing the wild look in the man's eyes I knew it would be useless. He was cutting through anything not green. I took in the bruises around his wrists. He was one of the released prisoners and this was his retaliation against his captors. As the axe fell I jumped lithely to the side. The man stumbled slightly, not physically in shape after being confined to a small space for such a long time. I turned and sliced through his right shoulder. Blood immediately soaked his sleeve. My sabre was well sharpened and I knew that I had ripped through a tendon. He wouldn't be wielding a battle axe ever again and fell to his knees, the pain crippling.

I looked around, unsure of what to do. Wolf was on the sidelines, baring his teeth at anyone who even glanced in his direction. He took his orders from me and as I was unsure of who I was fighting, he wasn't going to do anything. Riley was already on the castle battlements helping his archers. A handful of Baron Quinn's men had seen the threat posed and were trying to prevent their comrades being skewered on mass. It took thirty seconds to reload a crossbow and in that time the archers were effectively unarmed and vulnerable. Riley whirled his sword in an intricate dance; beautiful yet deadly. He stabbed a man straight through the stomach. Another came at him from the side and he kicked him in the chest, sending him over the short wall and presumably into the moat.

I flicked my sabre at a soldier in red who didn't realise who I was. I only intended to cut his upper arm but he moved at the last minute and was instead impaled. My stomach turned as he fell, dead. I guessed it was for the best. I didn't want to know with _el jefe_ would have done with him when he found out.

I didn't want to cross the yard, in case an archer targeted me by mistake. While my cloak was plain black, if I was on the battlements I would most likely take the chance and shoot me regardless. I considered removing a surcoat from a dead or wounded man but the idea didn't sit well with me. Being covered with a stranger's blood was not appealing.

Wolf, always knowing exactly what I was thinking, padded over with a burnt yellow cape in mouth.

"Where'd you get that from?" I asked.

 _"_ _I was making myself useful,"_ he answered and I smiled my thanks, ripping off my cloak and quickly fastening the cape. I swore under my breath, realising the enormity that simple change of clothing had.

 _"_ _Swearing now?"_

"Wolf, I'm wearing their colours," I whispered. I felt dirty. I wanted to rip the cape off as quickly as I had put it on. It itched around the collar and it was like dozens of bugs were crawling up my neck.

 _"_ _If it makes you feel any better, I think you can actually pull off yellow."_

I scratched at my neck furiously and then decided I needed to get over this. It was just a coloured cape, nothing else. Clothes didn't dictate anything at all. They were just cloth. What mattered were my actions.

I crossed the yard, carefully stepping over the dead and wounded. My eyes were drawn to Baron Quinn who was putting himself in as much danger as his men. A man approached him from behind, ready to stick a knife through the baron's back. A quattro was between my fingers in a second and then released in another. While the battle was far from quiet, my ears narrowed in on that one man and I heard his final cry, before he slumped to the ground, dead. I hoped no one was watching me because in yellow I was not supposed to be killing my comrades. I dispatched a second potential backstabber, before dealing with one of the baron's men who thought I was getting too close to comfort.

"Mon!" I somehow heard my name screamed above the noise and ducked to the right, as a crossbow bolt grazed my left arm. Looking up Riley was yelling at some poor man while shaking his shoulders quite violently. Riley glanced down, relieved that I was still standing. I gave him a mock salute. Great. I was pretty sure that by now I owed him in the life saving tally.

My eyes were drawn to _el jefe._ He pulled his sword from the back of one man before pivoting and slicing off another's head. His sword was taking lives as a scythe harvested grain in the autumn. It's weight alone crushed in a skull and then carved straight through bone. I was transfixed as blood flowed like a river.

The number of green figures still standing was dangerously low. A small group surrounded Baron Quinn, the last stand of the once mighty fief. While they had been trying to protect their leader, standing together left them as easy targets for the archers and they were not long for the world.

 _El jefe_ stalked towards the Baron. Everyone, watching the final stand of a baron who had lost his fief to invaders. _El jefe's_ sword was held at an angle and I knew what he was going to do. He was going to try and lop the Baron's head off as quickly as he could. It would probably be displayed on a pike in town to show the people that they had no hope. Baron Quinn to his credit did not back down or turn away. He wiped the back of his hand over the cut above his eye and tried to stand straight. His surcoat stained with blood and the barb of an arrow still stuck out of his thigh, even though he had broken off the shaft. He was not winning this battle or escaping with his life.

My feet began moving on their own accord, my eyes trained on the two men. I couldn't let the baron die like that. I wouldn't let him lose everything and be left with a final thought and fear as to what would happen to his family. My fingers reached for a throwing knife and instinctively measured angles and distance. I was going to stick the knife in the back of _el jefe's_ neck, right where his leather armour ended. It was such a small target that I doubted my abilities for half a second but shook it aside. I could hear Halt's encouraging voice. I had the skills, I just needed to trust myself. My knife was deathly sharp and it would most likely come out the other side of his neck. If it didn't, I would run and finish the slice before any archers could impale me. It would be a fitting ending. If I was lucky I might make it out. I didn't care what King Ferdinand would do in the future. For now, I would be the girl who killed Araluen's greatest threat and that was all that mattered.

† † †

 _I screamed, my eyes jerking open. No, no, no. It was after me. The darkness was clawing at me. It wanted to consume. To take me away into some unknown. I stumbled out of bed, getting caught in layers of blankets and silk before tripping on my long nightgown. I rubbed sleep out of my eyes and ran to the one person who I know would make everything better. My feet pattered on the cold marble. It took all my strength to get the big doors opened just a little bit so that I could sneak in. I climbed up the foot of the bed, pushing aside the heavy curtains and hurled myself in my father's arms, sobbing uncontrollably._

 _"_ _Minny?" he asked, opening his eyes sleepily. I crawled under the covers and hugged him close, smelling the familiar scent of safety._

 _"_ _What happened sweetheart? Did you have a bad dream?" I nodded against his chest._

 _He pulled me close. "How about you stay here tonight?" I was going to stay whether he let me or not._

 _My mother woke up and turned to her side, seeing the intruder in her bed._

 _"_ _Did she have a bad dream?" she asked. "Poor darling." She rubbed my back gently before drifting back off again._

 _"_ _Can I sleep here tomorrow?" I asked. He kissed my forehead and stroked my curls until the tears stopped._

 _"_ _You can sleep here whenever you have a bad dream. I'll always be here for you Minny."_

† † †

The hilt of my knife left my fingers and seconds later a cry rang out. Baron Quinn fell to the ground, his sudden movement causing the arc of _el jefe's_ broadsword to pass harmlessly over his head. The Baron tried to drag himself up with his left elbow, wincing at the throwing knife with was lodged in the gap in his armour under his shoulder. _El jefe_ looked around, confused for a second before going to finish off what he had started. I wasted no time and rushed forward. I didn't know why I did it. It was impulsive and it was rash. I had been fully prepared to end his life but then I wasn't. Not like this and not yet. I couldn't kill the man who was my father. He deserved to die for everything that he had done. But could I live with that decision if I didn't even give him a chance to be the father he once was?

"STOP!" I yelled as all eyes turned to me. _El jefe_ loosened his grip on his sword and gave me a questioning look. He took in my outstretched hand and the colour of my cape – taking me apart and trying to figure out why. Riley was practically running down from the battlements, gawking at what I had just done. He knew what I had been so close to doing and was now wondering why I was being stupid enough to deny _el jefe_ his final victory.

"Minny?" he asked. "What in god's name do you think you're doing?" It was a good question. I didn't know what I was doing either. I was just trying to save the Baron the not kill the man who had once held my close and promised that he would protect me from anything. I needed to think of something believable and fast.

"Don't kill the Baron," I said, putting my arms out in an appeasing gesture. The battle fury slowly drained out of _el jefe's_ eyes.

"What's the use in killing a man who could be a valuable bargaining chip," I explained. "He has no men left, so he's not threat to us. From now he could only be an advantage." I tried to say it convincingly. As if I had a deep well of military strategy knowledge.

 _El jefe_ raised an eyebrow. "Then what should we do with him?"

"Throw him in the dungeons with his family. He won't try to escape if he thinks they'll be harmed. Use his family against him. Make him tell us Castle Caraways secrets. It shouldn't be too hard. From there we can figure out how to truly control this port and then the rest of the country." The words that left my mouth were so cold and heartless. They made my tongue feel heavy and laden with poison. Somehow though, I flourished my words with a flick of my hair and placed my hand on my hip. I glanced quickly at Riley who was shaking his head in disbelief. He had seen me be so convicted in my fight to join the rangers and was surprised by my sudden change of heart. He hadn't thought he would be retrieving a loyal daughter for _el jefe._ Gorlog's beard. What had I just done. Putting on the cape was one thing, but I just signed myself over to the enemy.

 _"_ _Puedo matarlo si lo desea,"_ the Captain of the Guard said, holding his sword just inches from the Baron's neck.

Baron Quinn stared at me with confusion and then recognition. He knew who I was. The girl who had come to his fief weeks ago. He had given me shelter and his people had clothed and fed me. We had fought alongside each other against this very threat and now I was on the other side. The girlfriend of the prince was now also the daughter of _el jefe_. His face contorted and he looked at me as if I was scum. Worse than the sewerage that floated in the moat of his castle. Well, former castle. He then lowered his head in defeat. The light that had once lined his handsome face, well and truly gone. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"No," _el jefe_ said gazing at me with what looked like pride. "My daughter is right. He's not threat to us anymore. Throw him in the dungeons with the rest of his men." The Iberian soldiers began to poke and prod fallen men, determining whether they were in fact dead. The injured ones were hauled off to the dungeons with the baron in chains.

"I'm proud of you," _el jefe_ said placing his hand on my shoulder. I wanted to shrug him off but forced myself to give a semblance of a smile. All I could think of was that look on the Baron's face. There was nothing to be proud of. Here I was condemning soldiers for stabbing their opponents in the back when I had switched sides mid-battle. I wanted to throw up. I was a traitor. There was no other way to say it. The moment I had changed the target of that knife, I couldn't go back anymore. I couldn't just take off my cape and say I was back on Araluen's side. It was your actions that dictated your allegiance and I had just made a grand gesture that would not soon be forgotten. There was no going back.

I prayed to grandmamma's god that I wouldn't live to regret it.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

As soon as the battle finished, servants flooded the courtyard, their work only beginning. While they did not wail, the grief was clear in their eyes. The bodies of the men who had once protected them and patrolled this castle were lying in pools of blood. Wordlessly they placed the dead in wagons to be transported out of the castle. From there I knew a mass grave was being dug – far enough away that the smell of rotting corpses would not contaminate the air. Tears fell down cheeks but the servants continued. They could try and fight back, but they knew as well as anyone that they would have no chance. As simple townspeople they would live if they silently obeyed orders. If not, they would not leave with their lives.

Servants dragged pails of water out of the well and began dousing the cobblestones. The water trickled leftwards, between the gaps in the mortar and then drained into the moat. Others came along with straw brooms, washing away the red stains and all memory of the lives that were taken merely hours ago. Soldiers began to whistle, as if the haunting screams of dead men could just as easily be drowned out.

With the adrenaline draining out of my system, I became aware of a sting in my left arm. The white sleeve of my shirt was soaking in blood from a gash. It curled around my flesh, as long as my hand but not too deep. I made my way to a nurse station where I was bandaged up.

"I think you're starting to owe me," Riley said, sitting opposite me and having his own wounds attended to.

"I've lost count but the time I didn't slit your throat should count double," I replied.

"Sorry I didn't tell you the truth earlier. I wanted to be certain before doing anything."

This entire situation was his fault but then again if it wasn't for his interruption my body would probably be languishing in the riverbed.

"You saved my life, twice." I grinned. "You're my hero, oh brave knight."

He chuckled and waved his hand in mock theatrics. "It's my pleasure _Lady_ Monique."

"Lady Monique?"

"Well unless you want me to call you Lady María."

"No thanks. That's my mother's name, not mine." It was slowly hitting me. I could never be the same person again. It wasn't just the last minute misdirection of my knife. My whole identity had changed. I came from an entirely different place. I had fought for so long to have my abilities recognised, but now I was one of those people who had life handed to me on a silver platter.

As the nurses moved away, Riley lowered his voice. "You were going to kill him weren't you?" He knew. This wasn't good. I kept the horror off my features and quickly thought through a response. What if he told _el jefe_? He was the traitor and for some reason he and his father were working closely with the Iberian's despite being Baron Quinn's men.

 _Don't reveal anything if the evidence against you is flimsy or you'll just be throwing yourself off a cliff._

The wise words of Halt rang through my head. "What are you talking about?"

"When you held that knife up. I was watching you. You were going to hit him and at the last minute you hit the Baron instead."

"That's ridiculous," I retorted, rolling my eyes. "You knights know nothing about distance fighting."

Riley let it go with a shrug, but I had a feeling that it wasn't the end of this conversation. He got off the cot and strapped on his weapons. Blood still coated his blades and I still wondered how he could take the lives of men that he had gone to Battleschool with and who his father had trained. It was sickening. A voice in my head reminded me that I was going to do the same thing. I was going to help Araluen in the end, I told myself, trying to justify it.

"Do you want me to take you to your quarters?" Riley asked.

"I have quarters?"

"Right next to _Señor_ Romero. The top floor of the keep. It was one of the baron's rooms. I think you'll like it. A big fireplace and four poster bed." Riley led me a floor above where _el jefe's_ office was located. The room was decadently furnished with two plush chairs and a settee facing an ornamental fireplace, and a bed big with heavy curtains to hide the flickering of the flames.

Riley stood at the door, watching me like a hawk.

"Is there something else?" I asked, feeling uncertain but needing to imbue confidence.

" _Señor_ Romero wanted you to meet him in his chambers for breakfast tomorrow morning." I hated how he called him _Señor_ Romero. _El jefe_ seemed more distant, but using his full name, he was suddenly more real.

The rest of his sentence then hit me. Breakfast with him alone. Oh god. No I couldn't go that long in a room with him. I wanted to plead with Riley to come with me again, but I swallowed the words. I had to do this myself and find a way to get over it.

"Okay," I answered, not trusting myself with any more syllables.

"I'll see you around," Riley said, with a reassuring smile, closing the door behind him. Were my feelings that evident? Should I be more forceful and sure of my position? Did I look nervous? Could he somehow see what I was planning? I was going to have a nervous breakdown with all this worrying.

My things were placed on a side table and I rifled through, looking for clean clothes. I found a woollen lapis tunic and off-white leggings. A warm bath was waiting for me and I took my time. Even so, afterwards wearing Evanlyn's old tunic and walking through the Baron's quarters I couldn't help feeling dirty. I just wanted to scrub my skin red raw and try and wash it all away.

I pulled my knees to my chest, sitting in front of the blasting fire but still feeling a chill in my bones. Wolf inched closer, sharing his body warmth. He didn't say anything but was silently there for me. Suddenly the heat was stifling. I wanted to pull the tunic over my head and have a cold bath. Instead I opened the heavy shutters and let the cold winter air flood the room. Maybe with slightly thinner air and the cold abusing me I could make sense of what I was going to do. I didn't deserve the comfortable warmth anyway.

"What should I do Wolf? They all think I'm for the Iberians. I can't go back anymore."

 _"_ _Then play the dutiful daughter and the loyal recruit. Get all the information and send it back to Halt,"_ Wolf said. _"You had them fooled. They believed every word that came out of your mouth. I know you're strong enough to do this. Somehow we can tell Halt everything and change the course of this war. You were right not to kill him. Replacing a leader is easy enough. That woman, Silvana could have been next and you would never get close to her. This way it'll be you and me stopping this properly."_

"But at what cost Wolf? Did you see the look of disgust on Baron Quinn's face? And I don't think Riley believes me."

 _"_ _You saved his daughter from growing up without a father. When this is over, he'll see it. And Riley is a traitor, so not exactly the most trustworthy source."_

I was too miserable to point out that I was a traitor was well.

"And what exactly is 'this'."

 _"_ _You're going to be Araluen's Spy."_

"I am?"

 _"_ _And a damn good one at that. Just imagine: everyone who doubted you will think they were right to when they hear the news. They'll congratulate themselves and think of ways to capture you."_

I stared at him. "This is not sounding appealing Wolf."

 _"_ _The King of Iberion is never going to let this go. When the final battle comes, and it will, Araluen is going to struggle. He's been planning this for decades so he won't come unprepared. You will be the one who turns the tide. You can sneak places and steal maps and help people, like you saved the Baron's life. I'm sure he won't be the first good person that you can save. Imagine the difference you can make."_

I chewed my lip as the idea began to sound better but I wasn't entirely convinced.

 _"_ _You and me, against the world."_

"I'll be a daughter and a traitor and a spy and a loyal Iberian and everything I need to be. But when it's all over they'll see that I had Araluen in mind all along," I said with a devious grin.

Wolf bared his teeth back in a devilish smile. _"Now that's my girl."_

"Mistress," I corrected. "Or master. Or just owner."

He snorted. _"Who said that you weren't my pet. A token human."_

"Not how the world works Wolf."

 _"_ _You better watch it or I'll tie a leash around your neck and start walking you down the street like all the fashionable ladies do."_

"You're turning into a fashionable lady now?" I raised an eyebrow. Wolf glared back but shut his mouth.

† † †

I climbed down the stairs carefully, my nerves growing as I descended. The whole act needed to be perfect or they would see right through me. I adjusted my tunic and checked the clasp of my cloak. I ran my fingers through my hair and neatened my long bangs. I pulled my shoulders back and lifted my chin. There would be no more skulking in the corners and trying to be invisible. I needed to be seen and act like a girl who had just discovered that she was Iberian nobility and the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the world.

When the morning light hit my face, I didn't shy away from the open gawking. I met their eyes with my own until they were the ones who had to lower their gaze. They bowed their heads as they passed or tried to seem occupied when in fact they were waiting for me to pass by just so they could stare into my back. I had half a mind to turn around and glare at them, but then _Lady_ Monique would never do that. They were nothing to me. In fact, their only use was in meeting my needs.

An older man servant carrying a crate of carrots passed right in front of me.

"You with the crate," I called. He instantly stopped and turned to face me. I watched as the recognition dawned on his face and he bowed his head.

"Lady Monique," he answered.

I raised my voice so that they would all hear. "Is there a seamstress in these parts at all? Or is this backwater town devoid of any of life's necessities?" I vaguely remembered the answer from my childhood, but I wanted to stretch this conversation so more people would cast their nosy eyes.

"There is one on the main street. Mistress Danielle's. She is open today."

"Good. Get a carriage prepared. I'll be leaving after noon," I ordered, walking off as soon as I had finished the instruction. I doubted the man I had chosen had any idea how to order a carriage. I didn't even know if Caraway had a stock of carriages but that didn't matter. I could hear the servants whispering as I passed by. I was already earning a name for myself and that was all I wanted.

I turned on my heel back up to _el jefe's_ chambers. I knocked on the door and then let myself in. If I was going to be his daughter, then I was going to come and go as I pleased. While my own room had been well furnished, it was on the small side with only the bedroom and then attached bathing chambers. _El jefe_ had, of course, taken for himself the Baron's own quarters. The main room was large enough to accommodate a long dining table with eight chairs. To the side was a chaise settee in front of a fireplace with bookshelves lining the walls. Five doors led off the main room. It couldn't compare with Castle Araluen, but for a Castle Keep it was likely one of the most comfortable in the country.

 _El jefe_ was seated at the head of the table, with a small book in one hand and a fork in the other. Seeing me, he immediately put everything down and pulled out a chair for me.

"Good morning Minny," he greeted. I wanted to sit as far away from him as possible – preferable at the other end of the table – but forced myself to go the proffered chair. Wolf nudged my leg reassuringly as I made the dreaded walk. With each step I felt like I was being bogged down in marshy clay, holding me down and trying to keep me from doing it. But eventually I reached the table and bent over to give _el jefe_ a kiss on the cheek. I amended the thought. To give my father a kiss on the cheek. I didn't know if that made it worse or better.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked. "I'm sorry about the chambers. This must be nothing compared to Castle Araluen and it certainly does not compare a _Castillo_ back home." Home? Iberion certainly was not my home and I hoped he would not bring up the idea of my going there again.

"Knowing that I had my parents back, I slept like a baby." I saw the satisfied smile on his face. I began spooning eggs, sausage and bacon on my plate. I hadn't eaten a decent meal in days.

"Your dog?" he asked, noticing Wolf for the first time. I could see Wolf's hackles rise as my father tried to stroke his fur. I realised why he was being so quiet. It took all of his self-control not to bite that hand and maul its owner.

"Wolf," I answered. "He's a very good protector."

"From what I saw, you can protect yourself. I'm very proud. Seeing a daughter of mine kill men with such ease… it's like you're the son I never had." I bristled at the comparison. A girl could fight just as good as any man.

"Mother would not be impressed."

He chuckled. "She would have a nervous breakdown. Did you train with Ranger's?" Bells began to go off in my head. Was he trying to get information about Ranger's out of me?

"Ranger Halt trained me a bit but the Corps didn't let me in." If _el jefe_ recognised the name of the Corps most famous ranger, I didn't see it in his eyes.

"Were you close to them?" Of course I was. They were my family. Maybe they still were. If they would still accept me. But then Halt had never done anything to wrong me. It had only been Edmund and the Corps itself. Everyone else had been endlessly supportive.

"As close as one can be without sharing a blood bond." I didn't know where that sentence came from but I knew I had said the right thing. My father seemed to believe blood forged a bond stronger than any allegiances and loyalties. He had expected me to blindly support his cause when finding out who I was.

"Father," I said, drawing out the two syllables in a sing-songey voice. "Can I have some money to buy new clothes? I didn't bring much with me." My father's eyes narrowed for a second, surprised with my suggestion. Never in the time we had been together had I ever enjoyed shopping for clothes. It had been the bane of my existence. However, that didn't mean he was going to deny my request. He put his utensils down and unlocked a draw in the side table, retrieving a leather bag, which he threw in my direction. I caught it easily and was surprised by the weight. Opening the drawstring all I saw was gold. He had handed me a small fortune like it was nothing. I did some quick calculations. Gorlog's beard. Forget a few tunics and capes, I could probably buy horse with this type of money. A well-bred horse.

"If you need any more just send a messenger and I'll have Riley or someone come down," he added. "Mistress Danielle's?"

"Thank you and yes," I answered.

"A very good seamstress," he said. "If I recall it was the only place your mother found acceptable." I nodded. My mother had been Mistress Danielle's most frequent and loyal customer.

"You look so much like your mother," he said after a long silence. He had finished his meal while I had taken another spoonful of eggs just so that I would have something to occupy the time, other than talking.

"Thank you," I answered, stiffly. I could have slapped myself. What a stupid thing to say.

I was saved from my own awkwardness by a knock on the door.

"Come in," my father called, and Captain Grant and Riley shuffled in. I narrowed my eyes, taking in their demeanour. They seemed nervous for some reason. As if they were just about to beg _el jefe_ for something and weren't sure what the outcome would be.

" _Señor_ Romero, sorry to interrupt, but we were wondering when we might see them," Captain Grant asked, bowing his head in respect. Actually it was more like fear and an inability to meet _el jefe's_ dark blue eyes.

My father looked at me and I hurriedly stuffed the remaining egg in my mouth, before wiping my lips on the back of my sleeve.

"Well you are fortunate that you haven't disrupted our breakfast," he said. "Very well, you've done your part so I shall honour my side of the agreement." My interest was piqued, but I turned my attention to them slowly, not wanted to appear too interested.

My father stood up, brushing the crumbs off his pants before buckling his sword around his waist and retrieving a key from his pocket.

"Will you be fine for a few minutes, Minny?" He asked.

"Can I come see?" I asked, hopefully. I gave him my best impression of the conspiratorial grin we used to share when getting up to mischief together. He gave me the same grin back.

"Might as well show you how we Iberian's work," he said, leading the way out. I feel a few steps behind, expecting Riley to walk with me, but he was just as determined as his father and was practically running beside _el jefe_.

"What's he so excited about," I whispered to Wolf.

I followed them down all the flights of stairs and to the garrison. Then down more stairs. We were going to the dungeons. Now I was even more confused.

The dungeons were dark and musty, the air so thick that it was almost choking. I covered my mouth and nose with my sleeve, to provide relief from the stench of unwashed bodies and the faecal matter that must be gathering in the cells. The first inmates we passed were still bloodied from the battle of yesterday and swore loudly at _el jefe_ and the two traitors as they walked past.

"We trusted you!" one man cried, lunging towards Riley and almost grabbing him by the neck before an Iberian guard struck him with a spear and pushed him back inside. The others, seeing the brutality, began to walk out of weapons reach but continued their jeering.

The further we went, the quieter it was. Men sat slouched in defeat, their hope of rescue from Baron Quinn taken, leaving them with nothing but this darkness illuminated by oil lanterns which were few and far between. I squinted behind the metal and made out some familiar faces and others so sunken from lack of food that they barely looked like men.

Reaching the end, there were more lanterns and even a hole carved into the roof of the dungeon to allow sparse natural light in. The floors of the cells were covered in fresh, clean straw and there were cots and even basic furniture inside. These cells were lavish, if you could ever call a room in a dungeon so.

Baron Quinn paced behind the bars while a woman rocked a whimpering baby in her arms. I could tell that she was beautiful under all the dust that coated her skin and hair. She was wearing animal furs to protect against the cold from the stone walls which chilled even me to the bone. Without a rabble of other prisoners to cause stifling body heat, these cells were even more freezing.

Seeing us, the baron just shook his head in disdain.

"Shame on you," he called. "Look what you've done. Are you happy now Grant?"

"I did what I had to," Captain Grant whispered, his voice so low that I had to strain to pick up his words.

"Speak louder man!" Baron Quinn shouted, disturbing his baby who began to cry in earnest. "My wife and child have been in this godforsaken dungeon for weeks! Weeks! This is no place for women and children. Don't you have any humanity?"

Something was tugging on my heart. I wanted to let the poor lady out. Watching her husband stand up for them, she stood by his side, refusing to cower. She held her chin up and held her child closer to her chest. I couldn't stop myself from concocting ways to get her out, but I had a feeling that she would not leave her husband's side.

"You've been beaten," Captain Grant said, louder this time.

"I know I've been beaten!" Baron Quinn bellowed. "What I don't understand is why you turned against your country and why my wife is in this place for criminals. She has done nothing and should at least be given the courtesy of a locked room in the Castle Keep. She's pregnant, bloody hell!"

I stopped. Oh god. Peering through the bars I saw the beginnings of a bump under her furs. She needed to get out of here now. I was not going to let this happen.

"Quinn, it's alright. As long as I'm with you I'm fine," the woman whispered.

"No it's not alright sweetheart," Baron Quinn continued. "Those two are traitors and that girl fought by my side against this very threat and now stands beside her father, suddenly loyal to him. What happened to your boyfriend, Prince Edmund? Our queen took you in, and this is how you repay her?"

The words hit me like a slap to the face, but I kept my features straight, refusing to show how much they hurt.

"I have found a better cause," I answered and smiled internally. Not that anyone other than Wolf knew exactly what that cause was.

"I wasn't told that your wife was with child," my father said, also noticing the truth behind Baron Quinn's desperation.

He turned to me. "What do you think we should do Minny?"

I stared at him, caught unawares by his question. He wanted me to decide what would happen to Baron Quinn's pregnant wife. Me? He would give me power to dictate lives just like that?

"Should we cut off his head like I originally suggested?" I watched as _el jefe's_ eyes lit up at the prospect while the poor woman gasped and grabbed her husband's elbow.

"Or should we torture them until we get as much information as we can from the baron?" I felt sick. Physically sick as the bile rose up my throat. He wanted to torture innocents? This couldn't be my father. He seemed to be alright one second if you forgot about the whole conquering thing, but the next he was a monster.

His final suggestion confirmed my observation. "Or we could move them to the upper floors, just under lock and key."

"I think we should move Baron Quinn's wife and the child to the living quarters. A nice room with a big window and warm fire. Perhaps a nurse maid can be arranged and a midwife can visit from time to time. Also we should allow guarded visits with the baron. When this is all over and as long as the baron remains as helpful as possible, there is no need for unnecessary spilling of blood," I said, coming to a decision. "No child shall ever be made to suffer for the actions of adults, especially an unborn babe."

My words seemed to stir something in my father who immediately looked guilty.

"Very well," he said motioning to a guard. "Let it be done." With that he walked away, leaving me standing in Baron Quinn's close scrutiny.

"What are you doing?" he asked. He couldn't know about anything.

I flipped my hair and continued to walk as if he was worth nothing to me. "Don't look a gift pony in the mouth." Had I gotten the phrase right? I had heard Will mutter something along those lines to Gilan.

The Baron seemed to understand what I meant and when I glanced back he gave me a thankful smile.

I jogged to keep up with my father's pace as he reached the last cell. Captain Grant and Riley immediately launched themselves at the bars, trying to reach towards whoever was inside. I squinted to make out two figures huddled in a corner. Noticing what was happening they both got up, their legs shaky, but nonetheless reached for the outstretched hands. It was a woman and a young girl around twelve years old. With gaunt faces and sunken blue eyes they must have been in captivity for months and maybe even years. They shivered as too thin arms slid out of threadbare sleeves.

"I am a man of my word," my father said opening the door.

"Thank you _Señor,"_ Riley said rushing to the opening. A hood fell backwards and pooled around the girls neck. Immediately I noticed her long golden hair. It was scraggly in places and unwashed but the colour was unmistakeable.

It was Riley's mother and sister.

Everything began to fall in place. How could I have been so stupid? No one just betrayed their country and Baron on a whim. _El jefe_ must have captured Riley's family years ago and forced him and his father to work for him in exchange for their lives. I had been disgusted at his actions, as had Baron Quinn but in light of this I didn't think I could feel like that anymore. Captain Grant caught his wife as she stumbled out of the door, holding her close as she sobbed in his arms.

"I'm so sorry you had to do all that for us. I'm so sorry," she apologised over and over again.

"Why are you apologising Sibyl? Nothing is your fault. It's okay. We're alright now and we can be a family again," Captain Grant assured her.

For a second everything was alright in the world and then with a clank _el jefe_ closed the door again, leaving the little girl separated from her family.

"What are you doing?" Riley asked.

"I agreed to release them when my daughter was found and this war was over. My daughter has been found, so half of the deal has been completed," _el jefe_ answered, looking pleased with himself. The girl didn't even cry or scream. She just accepted her fate and slinked back into the shadows. That made me angry. I could hear Wolf growl beside me. He wanted a piece of _el jefe._ An actual piece out of his leg, or perhaps even his torso.

"Put me back in then. Release my daughter," Sibyl said, the weak woman somehow finding the strength to stand up tall and challenge her captor. She was skin and bones and I wondered if she'd been giving her daughter a greater share of the food.

 _El jefe_ laughed, but it was not a sound I ever wanted to hear again. It was harsh and unforgiving. The laugh of a man who couldn't care less about a little girl. The same laugh that had filled the house when he had been a drunkard.

"If I release her, I can't guarantee that Grant and Riley won't leave. I still need them."

"You bastard!" Riley screamed launching himself on _el jefe_. "You promised." He only had the time to get in a punch in the gut before guards were at the cell, holding both Riley and Captain Grant back. Riley would have been better off with a sword but I guess he wanted to hear the satisfying crunch of skin against skin.

"When the war is over I shall let her go," _el jefe_ repeated, not injured in the slightest. "And I'll also overlook your misdemeanour."

"Let's go Minny," my father said, offering his elbow to me as if nothing had happened. "We have a lot of time to catch up on."

Riley looked at me, his eyes pleading, begging me to do anything. I had helped Baron Quinn and now he wanted me to help him. But what could I do? It's not like the girl was pregnant and she wasn't a small child either. If I let her go there would be no one to keep Captain Grant and Riley on the side of the Iberian's. I knew that they would probably try and get out of Caraway if their entire family was together and _el jefe_ wouldn't allow that. They would all be executed. I quickly racked my brains, knowing that time was not working for me and at the same time if I started freeing prisoners on mass, my head would be on the chopping block. _El jefe_ and my father were two parts of the same person and I didn't want to face the former.

 _"_ _What would Lady Monique want and need,"_ Wolf suggested and suddenly it came to me. That dog was a genius.

I put on my best snobbish tone. "How old is the girl?"

 _El jefe_ shrugged and looked at Riley.

"She's was thirteen last summer."

"Small for her age. What is her name?"

"Everly."

"What does she know about dresses?" Riley gave me a funny look wondering what in Gorlog's name I was talking about. I raised an eyebrow at him, trying to tell him to trust me.

Understanding dawned as he replied. "She used to make her own dresses and has quite a taste for fashion."

"Good," I answered before turning to my father.

"Daddy," I said using a less formal term. "I need a lady's maid. If I'm going to go to Iberion I need to have the proper servants." Riley looked shocked at the suggestion. Even I was shocked at my own words. Since when did I need someone to help me dress and do my hair. Also I did not want to be dragged all the way to Iberion, but I knew the suggestion would make my father happy.

"Very well," _el jefe_ conceded, seeming bored that this was taking so long. "You all have freedom to roam Caraway but the girl will stay with Monique. If you try and escape, her head will be the first to roll." He opened the door but Everly didn't move an inch. She eyed me warily and I realised that she was scared of me.

Slowly I walked into the cell and then sat beside the shivering girl. She looked like she wanted to run from me but to her credit sat stock still. I again marvelled at the strength of these women who had been locked up for so long. They were still so loyal to the Crown. I took off my cloak and she flinched at the movement. Gently I draped it over her shoulders.

"Don't be scared," I whispered. "I'm doing this because it's the only way that I can think of getting you out of this cell."

"You're his daughter," she accused, but still in a lowered tone. Her voice was strained and scratchy and I could see the outline of her bones through the rough material of her dress. She would not survive the winter in here. I needed to convince her to come with me.

"I owe Riley a debt. He's saved my life quite a few times."

"Why would he save your life?" Those clear blue eyes practically bore into my skull.

"He knew who I was and wanted to free you," I answered.

"And now I'm going to be your servant?"

"More like a friend." I needed her to like me so that I could save her.

Everly sighed and tried to get up. Riley immediately rushed to her aid, carrying the lithe girl in his strong arms. She rested against his chest and closed her eyes, at peace.

"Thank you," Riley whispered. "I will never be able to repay this debt to you."

Watching the family walk out of the dungeons as Baron Quinn's wife clutched her belly and followed, I knew that somehow I had made the right decision.

I may be a traitor, but at least I had saved some of the innocent.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The two cloaked figures rode in silence, arching their bodies over their horses and enveloping their ears in warm woollen cloaks to try to conserve body heat. Winter had well and truly inched its way down the country, now clawing its icy paws through the southern fiefs. The evidence of it whirled around their heads and Halt watched as Edmund brushed a pile of soft snow off his shoulder, as if flicking dandruff.

The lad was shivering and had his determined jaw clenched shut, to prevent his teeth from chattering. Halt admired his resilience. Under his cloak and surcoat, Edmund was wearing half amour as well as chain mail, while the Ranger was clad in a woollen shirt. The melted snow had seeped through the outer fibres in their thick cloaks and the steel Edmund was wearing retained the cold. It was a wonder the boy hadn't frozen over yet and fallen from his stead as a solid six-foot mass.

Not for the first time Halt cursed the changing of the seasons, even though he knew it was entirely illogical. Ideally, he would be back in Redmont. It was far enough south that the winter was at least bearable. He could lounge in front of the fireplace in his comfortable apartment, nursing a mug of coffee between his stiff fingers and with his own pot of honey, well away from the thieving hands of his former apprentices. Castle Araluen was even better. It was toasty warm due to the servants who worked night and day to keep the fires roaring and there was an endless supply of coffee that he didn't have to brew himself. And it was the good stuff from Arridi.

However, Cassandra had insisted that he accompany Edmund to Caraway to, as she described it, 'keep a check on his youthful exuberance'.

Halt shifted in the saddle, twisting from side to side to stretch his sore muscles. He really was getting too old to be gallivanting around the countryside behind energetic youth.

Halt had never seen Edmund so serious, his gaze on the road ahead unwavering. He didn't think that Edmund would fail. He would definitely find Mon. The real question was whether or not they could get out alive.

Halt shrugged back his hood to get a better view of the horizon. The blue sky had been banished and would not be returning till the spring. It was now entirely covered by foreboding storm clouds. An icy breeze whipped through his salt and pepper hair and Halt hastily put his hood back on, slowing his hands at the last minute so the boy wouldn't find the opportunity to make fun of his age. A week ago Edmund would have been ready with a jibe about Halt's bones feeling the cold more keenly, but now he barely even noticed the movement. His mind was far away and gone with it was his heart. Halt nearly raised an eyebrow at his own pesky thoughts. All these young people with their overly dramatic love stories were making him too sappy.

Darkness was hastily closing in and at this speed they wouldn't reach Caraway till the early hours of the morning. Halt began looking for an appropriate place to set up temporary camp for the night. It was going to be hard enough to retrieve Mon already, but heading there without a few hours rest would be suicide.

"Edmund," he called, raising his voice beyond normal tones to jerk the Prince out of his deep contemplations. Edmund turned and faced Halt, almost expressionless.

"We should set up camp for the night and head into Caraway tomorrow," Halt said, indicating the tree line.

Edmund shook his head.

"She could be in danger and I won't take that chance. What if something happens to her and it's this delay that means we can't save her? I won't be able to live with myself. I'm late enough as it is. Gods I should have followed her out here," the prince rambled.

As much as Halt wanted to throw him into a river, an ice cold river, and remind him that Mon was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, only a more gentler approach would work with Edmund's current state of mind. Halt wasn't widely known for his gentler side so he tread carefully.

"You're going to need your wits about you to find her and then help her bring down _el jefe_ ," Halt said. "He's not some common highwayman, robbing passers-by. He's evaded our capture for months now. If you want to help Mon, you need to be every inch that highly skilled knight that I know you are."

"What about patrols?" Edmund asked.

"We'll take turns on watch," Halt said. It was standard procedure and any other time he wouldn't even need to remind Edmund of it.

Edmund thought for a second, those dark eyebrows knitting together as his green eyes flicked towards the horizon. Finally, he sighed, shoulders slumping in agreeance.

A noise suddenly caught Halt's attention and he put a hand up to stop Edmund from dismounting. The prince was immediately on alert and placed his hand upon the hilt of his sword but dared not move beyond that. The thick undergrowth on the side of the highway was moving slightly. Any other observer would have dismissed the movement as one caused by the wind but Halt's senses honed over many decades recognised that the movement did not follow the direction of the winter storm. Even as the wind quietened down for a second, the bushes continued moving. Halt's hand slowly reached for his quiver and he drew an arrow, placing it on the string of his bow. He cursed himself for not noticing the intruder earlier.

Just as he was considering their next course of action, the bushes parted and a dishevelled man ran out, brandishing a spear crudely fashioned from a tree branch. Edmund reacted instantly, drawing his longsword in a second and digging his heals into Thunder's side so the horse backed away a few paces. Halt lifted his bow but stopped as he saw the man more clearly.

"He's not a soldier," Halt said seeing the ragged farmer's smock and dirty, patched boots. Half of his scraggly hair was frozen to his face.

The farmer seeing that he was thoroughly outmatched, raised his arms in surrender.

"No need to shoot! I'm harmless, I promise. Ain't ever hurt anything but those wild mutts that take my chickens."

Halt didn't lower his weapon and glanced approvingly at Edmund who kept his sword drawn and ready to use within a second. He would have been more concerned that the man might be an Iberian in disguise, luring them in while enemy soldiers surrounded them, but Abelard had not given him any warning signals yet.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Edmund demanded, his recklessness getting the better of him. Halt deigned not to interrupt, even though he would have preferred to take point on the interrogation. That would just undermine Edmund's authority and give the stranger some power over them.

The man narrowed his eyes. "Why should I tell you? You might be one of em'."

Halt discreetly adjusted the hood on his green-grey mottled cloak. Edmund pulled back his cloak, revealing his sigil, a silver wolf on navy blue. The man's eyes widened and he took a slight step backwards. Halt tightened his grip on his bow.

"You're a Ranger!" the man said, pointing a shaking finger at Halt.

"It would appear so," Halt answered dryly.

"And you're a royal ain't you?" the man continued, moving his finger to Edmund who nodded slightly. Realising his lax on formalities the man suddenly leaned forward in an awkward bow.

"What's your name?" Edmund asked.

"Lyle of Newman farm, sire. Been in the family fifteen generations. All the way back to my great-great-great-uncle, sire. I mean your majesty. Your highness," the man answered, stumbling over his words. Edmund gave a slight smile, choosing to ignore that twelve generations had magically disappeared.

"Sire is fine. What are you doing this far out from town?"

"Sire, the Iberian's have taken over Caraway, they have. I sent my family to my sister's house in Whitby a few months ago. I stayed behind to gather crops and sell em' but I'm leaving to join them now," Lyle answered.

"On foot?" Halt asked. By horse it was a few days journey but by foot it would take a few weeks and it was dangerous in this kind of weather.

"Aye. Can't sneak out of town on a horse. The patrols don't let anyone out," Lyle answered.

"And Baron Quinn's men?"

"All dead or captured."

"The Baron's dead?" Edmund asked incredulous. The man had been dining at Castle Araluen half a week ago, celebrating the coronation of their new queen.

"Aye, either that or captured," Lyle answered, his eyes shifting to the horizon, eager to leave Caraway and join his family.

"How many soldiers were there? How many ships? Did you meet their leader?" Edmund asked.

As Lyle struggled to answer, Abelard sniffed at the air and then tossed his head. Halt patted the horse's neck, telling him that he was aware of the warning. Abelard's ears pricked up in the direction of the highway which lead to Caraway. From the direction in which the wind was howling the scent of any danger was easily picked up by the well-trained horse. Two seconds later Thunder snorted and began pawing at the ground.

"Shush," Halt said, putting his hand up. The farmer immediately shut his mouth, fear lacing his dark eyes.

There was a second of painful silence as the three men strained their ears. And then, out of nowhere, came the foreboding chorus of hooves, hurtling towards them at a gallop.

The farmer immediately took off, like a rabbit sensing that it was about to become prey. He shot into the bushes, making himself scarce.

Halt considered their options as he readied his arrows. They could ride away into safer territory and come back with the full forces of Araluen to extinguish this threat but by the time they came back, they would lose the element of surprise. Without even looking at his young companion, Halt already knew that Edmund was not going to back down. If they left now, Mon could be killed or worse by the time they reached her. Edmund shrugged his shield off his back and tightened his grip on Thunder's reins. Abelard took a few paces backward, not in fear or cowardice. No, after years with Halt he recognised that their best course of action was for Halt to move back and pick off their enemies one by one. Araluen's most decorated Ranger did in fact carry twenty-four lives in his quiver, and an extra thirty-six in his saddle bags.

"They can't know we're here," Edmund said. "We just crossed the border."

"It must be a patrol," Halt surmised. Good. They wouldn't be expecting a confrontation. This would be their way in.

As the sound grew louder, ten horses rounded the bend. At the sight of two riders, the Iberian soldiers clad in the blood red of King Ferdinand, reined in their horses slightly. Halt didn't fire an arrow. Edmund just narrowed his eyes. Halt waited with patience acquired after decades facing assailants until they were all around the corner, and stopped on the narrow road, effectively preventing any escape.

Then he fired and chaos reigned.

Two men fell out of their saddles and a third clutched his shoulder before yanking on his horses reins so hard that he careered into another.

Edmund then took the opportunity to enter the fray. Thunder was galloping in mere seconds as the Iberian's balked at the huge black battlehorse hurtling towards them and the rider in whose eyes burnt the very fires of hell.

The first man tried to hold up his shield desperately, but Edmund's sword and the strength in which he wielded it, tore it clean in half. He was fast as a viper and brought the same sword around to stab the man through the side. One Iberian decided that while Edmund was occupied, he would try and decapitate the Prince. It was the last mistake he ever made. Edmund wiped the side of his face as the man's blood sprayed out of a vein in his neck, in which a grey shafted arrow was wedged.

Halt had shot the two men at the back of the patrol who were trying to escape. Their riderless horses now stopped the three remaining Iberian's from leaving. The men glanced at each other desperately, yelling in Iberian that they needed to retreat. Halt held up his bow and was about to shoot another when he stopped to watch Edmund. The lad was taking on three well-trained Iberian soldiers at once and was winning. His sword was a flash of steel and death. Backhand, forehand, uppercut and downward strokes. Soon it became a flash of crimson as blood flowed down the expertly crafted blade.

An immense silence settled over them, the type that always followed a battle. As if the entire world was taking a few seconds to contemplate the loss of life as blood seeped into the soil and became one with the land. They watched as the snow slowly fell, beginning to cover the bodies. The horses stopped fussing and began wandering aimlessly without riders to direct them. Edmund looked back at Halt, his face grim as he wiped the blood off his sword with an old rag and then tossed the soaked cotton to the ground.

"We should get going," Halt said. "With all that cacophony we're bound to have alerted someone. You couldn't swing your sword any quieter?"

Edmund gave Halt a sideways glare as he pointed to the side of his face which was blood stained. "You couldn't avoid getting me splattered with blood?"

"I was saving your sorry life," Halt answered. "And I know for a fact that you like your pretty head safely on your broad shoulders."

"Pretty head? Broad shoulders?" Edmund asked, grinning for the first time in days.

"Whenever you walk through Castle Araluen you look in every single mirror. I'm assuming that is only due to your elevated sense of self. It's quite unusual and heightened, even for a self-absorbed teenage boy."

"Maybe if you cut your beard with something other than your saxe, you would have the opportunity to peruse mirrors all day as well," Edmund answered, bringing up his favourite joke of all time. Halt scowled back even though he was pleased to see Edmund happier. Gloomy moods and gruff answers were _his_ façade. He needed the public at least to have a sense of mystique towards their foremost Ranger – or at least their foremost Ranger's mentor.

Abelard whinnied and Halt's attention diverted back to their surroundings. The horse had sensed something again. Halt and Edmund watched in horror as Iberian soldiers began emerging from the tree line, surrounding them.

Edmund swore.

Halt began unlatching his saddlebag, to take out more arrows.

There had only been ten men before but now they were surrounded by more than two dozen, including archers with cross bows and a few spearmen on foot. They had made one of the oldest mistakes in the book. The patrol had only been a distraction. They had been sent to dispatch with the two intruders while a larger force could be mustered. If they succeeded, then that was all well and good but if they failed, then it was the job of the second force to finish off the tired enemy. Even better, the first battle would give them the perfect opportunity to sneak in unnoticed.

"Rendición!" the leader of the men called out. Halt nocked an arrow, taking note of where the four archers were. Edmund unsheathed his sword and patted Thunders neck as the battle horse snorted, ready for round two.

"Not today," Edmund muttered under his breath.

The leader shrugged, taking their silence as an answer. Not that they were going to honour a surrender regardless.

"Tu elección," he said.

The words were scarcely out of his mouth before Halt loosed an arrow and then a second in close succession. He knew that his aim had to be true, and decades of practice paid off as two archers fell backwards, instantly dead, as arrows pierced their hearts. Halt then slid off Abelard as two arrows sailed right past the position he had been half a second earlier and then above his horse's head. The two archers situated behind them, stared at each other as their leader swore. They had stupidly wasted their crossbow bolts on the same target. Halt thanked Gorlog under his breath. The first archer only had those few moments to contemplate this unlucky turn of events before he saw the arrow lodged in his stomach. The second ducked out of the way just in time and tried desperately to reload a second bolt.

Thunder galloped forward, trying to avoid the crumpled dead bodies and icy road. Edmund cut one man down and then seeing a line of spearman, jumped off Thunder and sent the horse running out of the way.

The problem with facing spearman with a longsword was the extra reach they had. It wasn't ideal, but Edmund had received the best training a swordsman could. The day he taken his first steps, his uncle had handed him a child-sized sword made of hickory. From then on he had been trained by Battlemasters from across the country, the great MacNeil, and had spent extensive time with both Horace and Gilan. His uncle had even sent him overseas to learn different techniques with other types of blades. He knew exactly what to do: aim for the hands. While a sword had a cross to protect a swordsman's hands from a blade, a spear was just a metal stick with a pointy end. The key was to exploit a spearman's anxiety over his hands. In this case it was too easy. No one had had the good sense to give the spearmen gauntlets, they only wore leather gloves and he had just sharpened his sword.

The first man lunged at Edmund, spear out while he stood a good distance away. Edmund easily danced to his left, light on the balls on his feet and then sliced at the man's side while he tried to turn the cumbersome weapon around.

Some sixth sense told Edmund to duck, and he did, just as a spear almost crashed straight into his head. He heard a cry of pain as the bearer was lodged with a red tipped arrow.

Edmund didn't have the time to dodge the next spear and instead caught it on the edge of his sword. The spearman was strong and held his weapon firmly. Edmund knew he wouldn't be able to deflect it, so instead he let his weapon carve down the side of the spear. He maintained eye contact and soon saw the panic in the spearman's eyes as his gaze shifted from his hands to the impending blade. To his credit, he kept his grip but then cried out as steel pierced skin. Now within arm's reach, Edmund punched the man in the side of the head and he went down like a sack of potatoes.

Turning around, Edmund saw soldiers closing in on Halt. While Halt could definitely hold his own, his only close quarters weapons were a saxe and throwing knife, which were practically useless when surrounded by half a dozen swordsman.

Just as Edmund went to rejoin the Ranger he felt a shooting pain up his left arm. He swore, very colourfully, and then made the mistake of having a look. He almost fainted at the sight of the arrow sticking out. It felt deep and turning his arm around, Edmund saw the tip poking out the other side.

"Gorlog's whiskers," he muttered, gritting his teeth. At least it had been his left arm. Edmund decided then and there that if he and Halt were going to die today, he was going to take as many of those bastards as he could with him. It would make Mon's job a bit easier. She would kill _el jefe_ and he knew that he was mostly here to apologise to her, not necessarily to save her. That girl didn't need saving.

Seeing the arrow sticking out of Edmund, Halt shot the last archer and then turned his attention to the swordsmen looming. The sheer number was overwhelming. Surviving was going to be a miracle.

Just as Halt took out his knives and sized up his opponent, their miracle arrived.

Men fell to the ground everywhere. Four within two seconds and then another four before anyone could raise the alarm, all sporting black shafted arrows in various crucial body parts.

For not the first time in his life, Halt knew that taking apprentices had been a good idea. They had now saved his life more times than he could count on two hands.

Will sat on Tug, some distance away, picking off any soldiers who didn't take cover. Gilan and Blaze took care of those trying to retreat. Halt hunted those who left their horses and had retreated to the undergrowth and Edmund took those on the other side of the road.

When everything had been taken care of, Will and Gilan turned to Halt.

"So the apprentices save the master."

Halt just scowled. "What took you so long? You've been trailing us from the castle. Did you get lost or something? Is there a second Queen's Highway that I should be made aware of? We were attacked hours ago!"

"Why didn't I teach my apprentices the importance of punctuality?" he asked no one in particular.

"One of the many bad habits you have corrupted us with," Will deadpanned.

"You sound like Crowley."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"What are you two doing here?" Edmund asked while Gilan clapped him on the back and Will opened his medical kit.

"Did Evanlyn ever tell you about the time we went to Arridi?" Will asked, examining the arrow wound. It was wedged through Edmunds upper arm, just under the shoulder plate of his armour. While Edmund wasn't complaining and the wound wasn't bleeding much, that was because the steel tip had gone clean through and was now sticking out the other side.

"Of course," Edmund answered. "But not as much as you have. With all your bragging about what a fast horse Tug is, it's a wonder the horse still has a sense of balance. I was sure he would become big-headed with how conceited and vain he is."

Tug tossed his head and neighed loudly and Will muttered something to the horse under his breath. Anyone else would have thought that the man was out of his mind, but Edmund had been around Ranger's long enough to understand the special relationships they had with their horses.

"Stand still," Will said before he used a pair of clippers to cut off the arrow tip. Edmund winced and could have sworn Tug was laughing at him.

 _"_ _That's what you get for saying I'm big-headed,"_ the horse seemed to say.

"He's faster than Thunder," Will insisted, offering Tug an apple which the horse chomped down much too quickly. Halt raised an eyebrow. It was another thing that Will had never quite grasped during his apprenticeship. If Ranger horses were overfed they could get fat and slow. However, Halt chose to ignore the well-documented fact when he secretly fed Abelard dozens of apples in the well-stocked palace stables.

"Stay on subject," Gilan said with a grin. Will slowly helped Edmund take off his armour around the lodged arrow.

"When Evanlyn first went to Arridi your uncle didn't think that she would be safe. He wanted to send some of his personal guard in addition to the thirty Skandians protecting her – Oberjarl Erak's own crew at that," Halt explained.

"Sounds like something he would do," Edmund said.

"You know the old ranger saying: 'one riot, one ranger'?" Will asked. Edmund nodded.

The saying originated from a legendary event that had happened during the first few years of the Ranger Corps. A small fief had risen up against their cruel lord and the residents had surrounded his manor house, threatening to torch it. The panicked nobleman's message for help was answered by the arrival of a lone Ranger. He had asked, horrified, why only one man was sent, to which the Ranger had asked how man riots the lord had. If he only had one riot, why would he need multiple Rangers?

"Your uncle decided to create a new saying: 'one daughter, two Rangers'," Halt said. "He sent me, Gilan and Will to babysit her."

"Not that Evanlyn ever needs babysitting," Gilan put in. "Her sling is still a weapon that strikes fear into the hearts of the Arridi."

Edmund however was doing some simple calculations. "But you, Gilan and Will makes three?"

"Will was an apprentice at the time so it was really: 'one daughter, two and a half Rangers'," Halt said, amending his earlier thought.

Will cleared his throat. "If I remember correctly his exact words were two and three-quarters."

"Hog wash," Gilan said, dismissing the suggestion with a wave of his hand.

Will was scandalised.

"May I also remind you that I was such a good apprentice that I killed a Kalkara before even receiving my bronze oak leaf and was offered a position in Battleschool."

"Who was trained by MacNeil?" Gilan asked pointing to his sword.

"Who was offered a position in the Royal Scouts?"

"That was only because Evanlyn had a crush on you." Edmund laughed at Will's glare.

"It was actually quite embarrassing," Gilan added, examining his nails. "Scraggly little thing you were."

"Who stopped a Scotti invasion?"

"Who caught Foldar while you were out touring the Skandian countryside with your girlfriend?"

"May I remind you that Cassandra is your Queen," Edmund said.

Naturally, he was ignored.

"Who can play the mandola?" It was mid-argument and Will, still flustered from the girlfriend comment, brought up the stupid instrument and he instantly regretted it.

"You mean the lute," Halt corrected, keeping his face entirely straight.

"It's a mandola! How many times do I have to tell you?!"

"Mandola, lute. Same difference."

"The stringing is different. The mando…"

"I don't think it made a difference to Delilah," Halt said.

Gilan snickered in a very boyish manner. Halt gave him a sharp look and realising how high pitched the laugh was, Gilan cleared his throat.

"Her name was Delia!" Will burst out, completely and utterly frustrated. Halt and Gilan just grinned at each other.

"How many girlfriends did you have? How does Alyss feel…"

"Gorlog's tongue! Can you get to the point?" Edmund said, bringing a stop to Gilan's impassioned speech. "It's a wonder you three haven't caused an international incident!"

"Hey, what happened in Toscana has never been confirmed," Gilan said.

"I still think it was the stale coffee," Halt put in. "Toscan's don't know how to properly brew coffee."

Edmund rolled his eyes at their antics but couldn't help but laugh quietly.

"And the moral of this story?"

"When Evanlyn heard you were going off to Caraway she said, and I quote: 'one baby cousin, three Rangers'," Will said.

"Was that really so hard. Like honestly it's a wonder Araluen hasn't been in a war…" Edmund started and then yelled out in pain as Will pulled the arrow out of his arm and immediately put a piece of clean linen against it to staunch the flow of blood.

"You could have at least warned me!" Edmund said, muttering a couple of curse words which would have made a Skandian blush.

"You were getting on our nerves," Gilan said. Will carefully bathed the wound in water before wiping off the excess blood. Then he applied salve to help numb the wound and prevent infection, before tying it up neatly.

"We better get going," Halt said, looking around as if expecting a third attack. But it was late and he doubted there would be any other trouble tonight.

The three men looked at Halt expectantly. No matter how experienced they got, he would always be their leader and the first person whose opinion they would ask.

"Will you should ride back to Castle Araluen and tell Cassandra what's happening. It would be best for them to send the army to stamp this out before the spring when more soldiers arrive."

Will nodded and began preparing Tug. While they had just taken an almost three-day ride here, this was an emergency and Tug would just have to make another three back. Looking around, Will decided to take another horse with him to make it easier for Tug. While Tug nuzzled his hand telling him that he could make it back, Will wasn't going to take any chances.

"And the three of us?" Edmund asked, glad that he hadn't brought the horse he had wanted to gift Mon. It would have been slaughtered and would only have posed a hindrance.

"You're going to pose as an Iberian soldier, go in, find Mon and see if she needs any help to kill _el jefe_ ," Halt said.

"What?" Gilan said. "You know Cassandra sent us to keep Edmund safe. You can't just send the Crown Prince there. It's too dangerous."

"Relax Gil," Edmund replied. "Even if they capture me, they won't kill me. They'd rather ransom me off."

"How can you be sure," Will said, his eyes darkening. "You know what they were prepared to do to Danny."

"Look," Edmund said. "While you all have such unwavering loyalty to Araluen it's different for me. It has been my duty from birth to protect Araluen. I was never the heir. Cass and Maddie are the ones who need to be protected. They royal line is secure so I'm not needed anyway. My duty has always been to protect them and this country and right now it is threatened and I will not shy away from this just because I might die. Mon is in there and she has so much less duty to this country than I do. If I let fear of death stop me protecting Araluen, then I'm no better than a lowly traitor."

Halt clapped Edmund on his shoulder – the right one – and smiled. "Your uncle would be so proud of you. I know I am." Edmund smiled back.

"Also, he's the only one who could pass for an Iberian soldier."

"Meaning, you're too old," Gilan said, grinning fiendishly at Halt. "But why can't I do it."

"You don't speak Iberian," Halt answered, choosing to ignore the jibe.

"And what are we going to do?" Gilan asked.

"You're going to size up their military strength and I'm going to keep an eye on Edmund in case anything goes wrong."

Edmund clutched at his heart dramatically, wincing as he moved his left arm. "Your low opinion of me is like a dagger into my very heart." Halt raised an eyebrow.

"And this is exactly why I need to go," Halt said dryly. "He obviously cannot act."

"What about his arm?" Gilan asked.

"I'll just pretend I got shot by one of you _pesky_ Rangers," Edmund said. "Please note the emphasis on the pesky."

Will raised an eyebrow. "Duly noted."

"And if one of the wounded men recognises you when he's finally hauled back to Caraway."

"They'll have to survive the night."

Seeing the inch of snow that already coated the road, Gilan conceded. They most probably wouldn't make it.

"Sounds like a plan."

† † †

Will had to resist the temptation to clap his heels into the grey gelding and urge him into a full gallop. He had the horse at a steady lope, a gait that Ranger horses could maintain for hours on end. While this horse wouldn't have the endurance, his longer legs more than made up for it. Tug followed without any need for instruction.

It was vital that Cassandra and her advisors get this information as soon as possible so they could start preparing their army. It had been decades since Araluen had faced a real domestic threat. Horace had made sure that the army was always ready, having lived through the second war with Morgarath and killing the Dark Lord personally, but it was inevitable that barons would become lazy and unmotivated.

The wind whipped around Will's head and he wished for the umpteenth time that he could be cradling a mug of coffee between his stiff fingers. Darkness fell but Will continued to ride, even as the trees blurred into obscure shadows with arms that seemed to stretch out over him. He was tired. Absolutely exhausted. Every single bone and muscle ached. He was still riding the gelding, wanting to rest Tug for as long as possible. It was well past midnight and he had been riding with only small rests for almost three days. He shook his head to clear the blurriness and squinted at the sky. He needed to steer by the stars and also watch for any obstacles.

Finally, he reined the gelding in. Glancing around the countryside he saw a tree that was so twisted and gnarled that it had become a quasi-landmark on the seemingly endless highway that stretched from one side of Araluen to the other. Roots as thick as tree trunks had risen above the ground creating little mounds for travellers to sit on as they ate. The wood itself was transcribed with the initials of those who had travelled this way. There was a clearing on the other side of the road, about a hundred metres within the tree line. Will and Gilan had taken a brief rest there on their way to Caraway. The dense foliage provided a shelter from the elements and also hid the spot from passers-by.

He swung down from the saddle, rubbing his backside which wasn't used to the stiff Iberian saddle. His knees gave way slightly as he touched the ground and staggered a few steps. He loosened the girth on gelding's saddle and fastened a rope between the horse's saddle and Tug's saddle bow. Tug wouldn't wander, but the gelding was a simple stead with no such training. Taking out a collapsible bucket he poured some water from his canteen before taking a swig for himself. The gelding greedily drank all the water and Will had to pour a second round for Tug. Tug in turn gave the gelding a decidedly hostile sideways glance. If Will wasn't so tired he would have laughed.

The ground was surprisingly soft and after Will wrapped himself in his cloak and pulled a woollen blanket that had been stowed in the saddle bags over him, his lack of sleep caught up with him. He closed his eyes, giving himself two hours to rest. If he didn't wake, he knew that Tug would do that for him. But right now two hours with his eyes shut as his head rested on dirt and fallen leaves was as appealing as lazing around on a goose down mattress.

It was only two hours, but it was sleep.

† † †

Edmund cringed inwardly as he pulled the uniform off the dead soldier. The man had died of a head wound so luckily for them there was no blood to stain the uniform. He felt like a criminal but the feeling was soon forgotten as soon as he pulled the blood red surcoat and cloak on over his armour.

"It stinks," he complained, breathing through his mouth as he scowled at Halt. It was wet and Edmund could feel his skin crawl as he realised it was sweat. The man's sweat was now all over him. Edmund wanted to gag.

"It's the only uniform without bloodstains," Halt stated.

"This man didn't know how to wash."

"Perhaps it's just the scent of death," Gilan suggested unhelpfully. Edmund's scowl deepened.

"Shouldn't there be some bloodstains since I was shot?"

Halt just grabbed a bloodstained cloak and to Edmunds eternal horror wiped it over his clothes.

"There. Realistic blood stains."

Gilan grinned. "You were asking for it."

Edmund gave up. "Well I'm taking Thunder. There's a few horses his size and colour here so it won't be too out of the ordinary. I'll go in. Pretend that is miraculously escaped this massacre and then look for Mon. We'll kill _el jefe_ and then hopefully she'll come back with me."

"And I'll follow you just in case everything goes to hell," Halt added.

"Alright, well here goes nothing," Edmund said as he swung up into the saddle. He winced as the movement jolted his left arm. But he had experienced pain much worse. He squeezed his knees together and Thunder started at a canter before moving into a gallop. Each movement in the saddle went straight to his arm but Edmund just bit his lip and went on. Mon was risking her life and here he was complaining about wearing a dead man's cape and a little scrape in his arm.

He had to squint to make his way in the dark, and when the clouds completely covered the waning moon, Edmund slowed Thunder down to a canter. It was slower going but eventually he reached a knoll in the road from which he could see Caraway and the Slipsunder River sprawled out in front of him. He could feel his horse's chest heaving so stopped for a few minutes, finding a dry cracker in his saddle bag to nibble on.

Suddenly Edmund heard the sound of hooves and stopped mid-chew, his full attention diverted to finding the source. He knew that it couldn't be Halt and Gilan as they had decided to travel the rest of the way on foot to avoid detection, as only Ranger's could. That left only one possible option.

Edmund got Thunder to walk off the knoll and back only the main road. An Iberian soldier wouldn't stop to sight see. It was only a few minutes before the patrol caught up with him.

" _Detener!"_ the captain of the patrol called. Edmund immediately reined Thunder in and turned.

" _Gracias a los dioses!"_ Edmund said, the many gruelling years under his harsh tutor Collins immediately coming to the forefront of his brain. His tone shifted into an Iberian lilt and he did the sign of the cross, remembering it from the time he had accompanied his uncle on a diplomatic mission to Iberion.

Spying the blood on Edmund's shoulder the captain said, "You were a member of the party that was attacked?"

"Yes!" Edmund answered. "There were only two of them but then another six came out of the tree line armed with bows. I think they were those Araluen Ranger's. Had aim like the bloody devil. Got nicked by an arrow myself and then my captain sent me to warn the commander."

"Your captain's name?"

Edmund was glad for the thoroughness of the Ranger's who had thought to go through the things of the captain to find his name.

"Raphael."

"And your name?"

"Manuel." It was a common Iberian name.

" _Señor_ Romero will want to know the news at once. He has a particular interest in Ranger's," the captain said. For a second Edmund wondered who in Gorlog's name Romero was, but then it hit him like a tonne of sandstone.

They finally had a name for the mysterious and illusive _el jefe._

"Should we not send men to tend to the wounded?" Edmund asked as the captain waved his soldiers on.

"Why should we? They are probably dead already and we have a better prize."

It took half a second for Edmund to process the words, but it was already too late.

"Seize him!"

Thunder instinctively tried to get his master out of there, but a group of horses blocked his path. Edmund unsheathed his sword, the weapon breaking free and ready to shed more blood. But before Edmund could put it to use, a jarring pain spread through his back as he was hit with a club. The man who was wielding it had used all his substantive upper body weight and Edmund was swept off his saddle, hitting the ground hard as all his weight landed on his injured arm. His foot got caught in the saddle and in the chaos he was dragged around for a few metres before he managed to get loose.

Edmund swore and continued to swear as his weapons were taken away and he was tied up.

"We're not stupid boy. I know all my men and I have never seen your face before," the captain said, spitting at Edmund. To his credit, Edmund didn't even flinch when the spray found his face.

They lead him away on foot, surrounded by half a dozen spearman who were only inches away from skewering him like a ripe fruit. Edmund spewed filthy curse words in both the common tongue and Iberian – his tutor had been very thorough. An eager young spearman took it as an opportunity to shove his weapon into Edmund's thigh. The Prince stumbled, landing with his face in the ground, the salty soil covering his lips. As he was hauled back to his feet, Edmund spit the dirt at the offending spearman. That spear aimed for his leg again, but this time Edmund was too quick and took a quick step forward before smiling at the young man.

Edmund knew he was asking for it and before the night was over he was reacquainted with precious Araluen soil on a number of occasions. It was long past midnight when they finally arrived.

The battlements were crawling with men, the castle lit by hundreds of lamps placed at intervals. The stone was dark and foreboding and built in the traditional four corners with the Castle Keep a separate tower in the middle. It was much the same as the last time he had been here. The only difference was small, but a threat to the entire country.

Edmund couldn't help but scowl at the coat of arms of the House of Castile. The shield shaped flags with either a castle upon a red background, or a red lion on white, waved in the wind.

His mind cast back to much simpler times. Last time Halt had officially introduced him to the castle guard. Edmund remembered calling Mon _his_ _lady._ The prettiest blush had coloured her cheeks and she had tried to look away to hide it. Now he realised, he was right where he wanted to be. She was in there, and he was going to make everything right.

Well, if she didn't do it herself first.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Riley and his family were escorted back to their long abandoned home, under the careful gaze of a squadron of soldiers. I decided to make my trip into town to see the seamstress. It was that or become reacquainted with my father. As awkward as that would be, I didn't know if I could trust myself not to skewer him after seeing how he treated his prisoners. I knew for certain that Wolf was seething and I had to grab a handful of his fur to keep him back.

 _El jefe's_ flesh had never been so tempting.

It was market day so there were more townspeople mingling. They ventured out despite the light scattering of snow that dusted the dirty streets and the constant Iberian patrols. Goods and wares were scarce as merchants were kept out of the fief for fear of news spreading. It would reach the capital eventually, but _el jefe_ wanted to make that time frame as long as possible. Only local businessman had stalls open, mostly selling freshly baked pies and sweet delicacies. Wealthier farmers with children and half frozen soldiers lined up. Apparently the raiding and pillaging days were over and the Iberian's had to keep the townspeople happy.

News of the battle spread like wildfire, stoked by the servants who had been cleaning away the evidence. The sound of steel upon steel from the castle would have floated into town, but with ships of soldiers occupying their port, only a fool would have breached curfew to have a look.

It was well known that curiosity killed the cat, or in this case, the nosy town folk.

The archers had been fatal to Caraway's cause and most of the dead had bled out. Even those killed with a deadly slice during the battle had multiple crossbow bolts piercing their bodies.

Today there was an unmistakable tinge of crimson to the moat that had flowed down the Slipsunder and into its tributaries. The archers had grossly overcompensated during battle and they were already calling the last stand of Baron Quinn and his men the _Bleeding of Caraway_. The once great fief had been down, but now all the life had been pumped out of its heart.

The generally amiable chatter soon soured, as voices lowered into whispers. Hearing that their Baron was captured, dashed any burgeoning hopes for freedom. The mood became gloomy and bleak, to match the overcast clouds that blocked out any sign of the sun.

The people were suddenly on edge, huddling into corners when the soldiers passed and trickling back home. Riding through in a carriage certainly fostered attention and quite a few people stared my way. I purposefully kept the heavy curtains opened so that they could gawk all they wanted. It pained me to do so. I was breaking every single Ranger rule and the icy wind was biting my face. I forced myself to stare right out the window as if everything I was witnessing was beneath me. I was the daughter of the man who held them all hostage in their own fief. I was Iberian nobility.

I was the enemy.

The driver stopped on the side of the road. Looking out I noticed the sign overhanging the small entrance to the seamstress's store reading 'Mistress Danielle's'. I wasn't entirely sure if I just knew what it said, or if somehow I had read it for myself. Even so, there were two mannequins situated just outside the doors clothed in bright cotton dresses. It was probably the cheapest material that the store kept being such a bright pink that I actually wanted to shield my eyes. The seamstress wouldn't leave expensive cloth where it could be easily swiped by thieves.

 _"_ _Like you?"_ Wolf asked.

Too late I realised that not long ago it had been me. If the streets were empty it would be easy enough to take the dress and disappear into an alleyway. The difficulty would be the tiny buttons. Endlessly fiddly. Never a good idea when you had adrenaline coursing through your veins and the threat of capture looming. It would probably be easier to take the entire mannequin and then dump it later.

I shook the thoughts away and scoffed. "When would I ever steal something in that garish pink colour?" I crinkled my nose looking at it. I would tear such a dress to shreds and go to a ball in a dirty tunic before being seen dead in such a colour.

 _"_ _And if she only stocks pink?"_

"I shall personally see to it that the entire store is burnt to the ground. It is an abomination."

I stepped out and loitering ladies moved closer to catch a glimpse of the girl from the carriage. Noticeably, there was no one outside the store itself. In times like these when there was no way to trade produce with other fiefs, every penny was precious. There was nothing left to waste on pretty ribbons and silken white gloves.

Two particularly nosy teenage girls looked like they would follow me into the store, but stepped back when two soldiers hopped off the back seat of the carriage and stood guard at the door. I had my sabre and knives with me but my father had insisted.

Inside I was reminded of why I had hated this place as a child.

It was crowded and suffocating and I immediately had the urge to run outside and take a deep breath of fresh air. There was material flung everywhere and colours upon colours that my eyes were darting in every direction. Samples of buttons sat inside glass topped cases next to porcelain beads. I wondered how Mistress Danielle had managed to source her material. My mother used to swoon over the hand painted beads. People must be more ready to part with their hard earned money for a handful of rubbish than I thought.

I decided that this was worse than stepping into battle. At least then you had weapons to defend yourself.

As the stout woman rushed towards me, I willed myself not to throw a knife. She was not the enemy. This was not a battle. It was merely a dress shop and I could do this.

Yet when she got closer and her true intentions became known, I couldn't stop my hand from unconsciously resting on the hilt of my sabre.

"Darling!" she gushed, taking me into her arms and mushing me against her bosom. She held me there for a good half a minute as I struggled to free myself. If that woman had been at the battle, I would have bet a jar of honey on Baron Quinn to win.

She finally released me and it took all my strength to try and breath evenly instead of collapsing on the ground and taking in great gulps of air.

"I remember when you were yea tall," she said holding her hand to her waist. "But haven't you grown! Such a beauty, just like your Ma!"

Mistress Danielle's young protégée stopped cutting material at the counter and scrutinised me for a whole agonising minute. I shifted my weight from one foot to another, feeling extremely uncomfortable, but she curled her lip and continued with her work.

"Her body shape is quite lean. More like a man I would think." That voice filled with scrutiny and laced with a thick accent. I immediately recognised it and shouldn't have been surprised to hear it at the dress shop.

"Silvana," I spat, turning to see the pirate lady smirking at me as she ducked out from under the changing curtain. She was still tightening her corset to a point where I wondering how she could breathe, much less wield a weapon. Then she pulled a tight shirt over her head.

" _Lady_ Monique." The words that left her purple painted lips were dripping with disdain.

I took in her figure hugging clothes, high boots, the two sharpened knives strapped to her sides and finally that death-bringing steel rapier. She didn't even try to hide the fact that she was a woman. She wore bright cosmetics and left her auburn hair long. How had she managed to earn the men's respect? The fact alone should have scared me and sent me heading for the hills. They all cowered in her presence. Maybe I should have too.

Even more concerning were those obsidian eyes. It was like she knew all your secrets and could easily slip them past those thin lips at the wrong moment. I had a feeling that she had known exactly who I was the moment she laid eyes on me. She was Iberian and if she had known my mother, it would have been an easy connection. Too many people had told me in the last few days that I was my mother's spitting image.

"You knew who I was, didn't you?" I accused. "And you were going to kill me anyway."

"Did I." Silvana put a hand on her hip and cocked an eyebrow. I wanted to punch that stupid face and shave off that eyebrow with the sharpened blade of my saxe.

But then I remembered who I was and couldn't keep the smirk from spreading across my face. I could do a whole lot worse than that.

"How would _Señor_ Romero feel when he finds out that his beloved daughter was in such danger and from a mere soldier at that," I threatened. Silvana was much more than a mere soldier and was probably only a few levels down from my father himself. If I expected her to hiss or growl as the insult, I was mistaken. She was much better than that.

"He will be _irritado_ but will never kill me. I am the best _teniente_ he has."

Lieutenant or second-in-command I learnt later. Silvana was not some mere _capitan_ or _mariner_ , she was my father's right hand woman.

I hated that self-assurance. She had toyed with my life that day on the ship and I was going to make her pay.

"You held a rapier to my throat."

"You look like Lady María. She and I don't have the best history. José would understand."

I stopped for a second. Who the heck was José? Then it hit me. That was my father's first name. She called my father by his first name?

Not _señor._ Not _el jefe_. Not Sir, but José.

" _Sí,_ we are on a first name basis," Silvana said, her lips curving into a smile. She knew that she had confounded me and was taking great pleasure in it. Unlike her, I couldn't hide my feelings so easily. I wanted to smack that smile off her face. She was infuriating!

"I am his flesh and blood."

"And I am the woman who he chooses to spend most his time with."

She didn't mean? No, she couldn't. My father wouldn't dare. He had never been on the best terms with my mother but that was out of the question. If he had so much had thought it, my mother would have killed him. Not physically, but socially. When she was done with him he would be a social pariah and she would turn around and marry a prince of some exotic country and flaunt her royalty in his face.

The smirk spread and I knew she was lying, just trying to rile me up. I decided to ignore her and she slinked away, knowing that her fun was over.

I turned back to the seamstress who was holding her hand over her heart and looked like she was about to faint.

"Oh my poor darling! To think she held a weapon to your neck," she fussed. She held her arms out getting ready to welcome me into her arms once again.

Yeah, I wasn't going to let that happen.

I ducked backwards and then towards the cabinets of beads, opening the glass doors and running my fingers over the delicate pearls, to the horror of the protégée.

"These are delightful," I said, my voice taking on that annoyingly high lilt that I remembered my mother using whenever she was being overly effusive.

"And those navy and gold beads from Arridi will compliment your complexion exquisitely, Lady Monique," Mistress Danielle said. She forgot her fretting at the prospect of securing another customer.

"Shall we measure you up m'lady," the protégée asked, taking out a piece of measuring string. The face I made must have been quite dreadful because she suddenly seemed less enthusiastic.

"We can have new dresses custom made in a week," Mistress Danielle said.

"A week?" I said, my patience running thin. "Isn't there any way you could do it faster?"

If the seamstress was taken aback, she didn't show it. She must have been accustomed to dealing with a demanding clientele.

"A week for an entire wardrobe of clothes custom made. You can choose the material and beading for each item. We even had some enchanting Gallican lace come in on the last shipment. As thin and light as a feather. You're the only customer I've offered it to so far. Only the best for Lady María's beautiful daughter."

"It's too long. I need new clothes _now_ ," I all but demanded, letting out an impatient sigh.

"We have some wool that I've already beaded and patterned, Mistress," the protégée said quickly, rushing to the storeroom. She came out in a minute with piles of soft cloth.

"Wonderful Lori!" Mistress Danielle exclaimed, clapping her hands together once. "We can have some tunics prepared by tomorrow and dresses by the end of the week."

"What colours would you like m'lady?" Lori asked. I let out a careful breath and brought my fingers to my temples. I could feel a migraine coming on.

"I trust your choices. You know my complexion and what my mother would have chosen. I would like tunics and cloaks and woollen gloves and the finest leather boots. Then dresses. I want some by tomorrow and the rest by the end of the week," I ordered.

"How many exactly?" Mistress Danielle asked carefully.

I dropped the leather bag on the counter and could almost read the greed in the girl's eyes. She was fortunate. She was most likely the daughter of a farmer who had lucked out and become the protégée of a seamstress. Every day she could surround herself in finery and at least touch the things that other girls could only stare at from afar.

"However much this can buy and if necessary charge an extra to my father. And for the dresses use that Gallican lace and your finest beading," I continued, feeling exorbitant.

 _"_ _What about for spying?"_ Wolf asked, reminding me that I couldn't go sneaking around corridors in a scarlet red tunic.

"Also make a few tunics and cloaks in neutral colours without too much decoration," I added.

The girl busily noted everything down. Mistress Danielle began measuring me before I could object any further.

"Is there anything else m'lady," the seamstress asked as I finally made my way to the door. One of my 'guards' had been demoted to official shopping carrier and made his way out with a number of wrapped parcels.

Just in time I remembered. "No pink. At all."

"But it will look lovely on you with a lil bit of rouge on your cheeks," Lori said with a parting smile.

I glared back. "Don't you dare."

That shut her up quite quickly.

† † †

Everly sat beside me, quickly devouring her plate of beef and vegetables. I had insisted that she have a long, hot bath in my own bathing chambers. A maid had brought soaps and scented oils that I made her use as well. Sitting in a fluffy robe I had then presented her with some parcels that Mistress Danielle had made up. I had estimated the girls size but I thought the pre-made dresses would fit nicely. Now dressed in a light blue that matched her eyes and with her hair braided back, Everly hadn't spoken a word to me other than a curt thank you.

"How was the afternoon with your family?" I asked between mouthfuls of potatoes.

"Nice," she replied, cutting her meat. Thankfully the meat was tender and it didn't take much strength because those skinny arms were so weak that I was concerned they might just snap.

"It was cold today," I stated, failing miserably at polite conversation. What should I say to her? I didn't want to talk about what had happened to her. What if she started crying? I couldn't deal with crying people.

Yet again, Wolf was my saviour.

Abandoning all his fierce and wicked ways, he placed his head gently on the girl's lap and gave an adorable whine. Extremely adorable. The type of whine that had won me over all those years ago. Then he stared up at her with those wide eyes and for the first time I saw a smile take over her features. Her entire face lit up as she ruffled his fur.

"Do you like dogs?" I asked.

"I like nice dogs," she replied.

She looked uncertain for a second but then continued. "Before everything, Pa used to raise dogs. The type that farmers use for their cattle. It was his hobby and it was fun because we could play with the puppies."

"You can play with Wolf all you want. He usually doesn't have anything better to do," I said and Wolf playfully snapped at me. Everly giggled.

"Do you like the food?"

"It's very good and warm. I'm sorry if I'm being rude and gobbling it down. Mama would scold me," Everly said, putting her fork down self-consciously.

I replied by spooning more of the crispy potatoes onto her plate.

"You can eat as much as you want when you're with me," I encouraged. She started to disagree but then the golden tinge of the potato skin proved too enticing.

A strong gust of wind caught on one of the shutters, flinging it open. Immediately the room was flooded with swirls of ice. Everly shuddered and covered her head with her hands. I ran to close the stray shutter and made sure to lock it tight.

"I don't wanna go back. I don't wanna go back," Everly was repeating over and over. I swallowed. What should I do?

I stepped closer and slowly put my arms around the girl. She was shuddered as she hugged herself. I expected her to push me away but she didn't and instead leaned into my warmth.

"I'll never let them put you there again Everly. I promise."

"But where will I sleep. I'll be alone again and they'll take me to that dark hole," she cried. What had _el jefe_ done to her?

I turned her around and showed her the giant four poster bed.

"It's big enough for both of us. If anyone wants to take you, they'll have to go through me. And then they'll have to go through Riley and your Pa. And then they'll have to go through Wolf." Wolf gave a menacing bark.

"You're safe Everly."

She looked up at me with those clear eyes that matched her brothers. In that second I knew that she trusted me and I prayed I wouldn't let her down.

† † †

"How is she?" Riley asked. I closed the door to my chambers gently, so as not to disturb the sleeping girl. We walked through the hallways, just talking but with no real destination.

It was well past midnight but neither of us could sleep. Everly had been snoring very loudly for a tiny girl and I had a million thoughts running through my head. When I had stepped outside to get some fresh air, Riley had been sitting outside my door, half dozing. I had smiled at the sight. He wasn't going to let anyone take that girl away either.

"Resting."

"Thank you again for doing this."

"Any decent person would. How could I leave her in that horrible place?" I said. "Sorry again that she can't be completely free. It was the only thing I could think of."

"It was the best you could do," Riley answered. "And I know she'll be safe with you." I knew she was safe with me, but I was _el jefe's_ daughter and I should be the last person Riley trusted.

"But I'm his daughter," I objected.

Riley didn't say anything but waited until we exited the keep. In the open air and with the constant noise of patrolling soldiers, we wouldn't be overheard if we spoke in lowered tones.

"I don't believe that you're a loyal Iberian subject," Riley said.

"Riley, he's my father and those are my people," I replied. What a dismal spy I would be if I fell at the first person questioning me.

"I didn't know what you were doing when you changed the trajectory of that knife. You were going to be Araluen's hero, but then something changed. If you were truly Iberian's daughter, then you would have killed Baron Quinn instead of saving him for some half-baked reason. I wasn't entirely sure but then when you freed Baron Quinn's wife and Everly I knew. Somehow you're trying to help from the inside. Maybe you'll feed information to Halt and the other Ranger's and Prince Edmund. I'm not entirely sure how it's going to work, but I know that you are definitely loyal to Araluen, or at the very least the innocents mixed up in this mess, my mess."

I was taken aback by his speech. Was I really that obvious? I was the worst spy ever. Discovered after barely one day.

But I raised an eyebrow. "That's quite the theory you have there."

"Look, I don't want to hand you in or anything. I want to help you," Riley said, putting his palms out in a gesture of surrender.

"I spent years working for him, trying to keep my family together. But the entire time it felt so wrong. Yes, I was saving my mother and sister but deep down I knew that they'd probably rather die than have me become a traitor on their behalf. The war will be coming soon and now that they're out of that dungeon I can think about getting back at _el jefe_ ," Riley explained, his eyes pleading with me.

"I don't want to be a traitor anymore. You don't know how hard it is to live with the stares people give to me. The Araluens glare at me for forsaking them while the Iberians jeer that I was so easily turned over to their side." He lowered his head, utterly dejected.

I understood where he was coming from. It was the same fine line that I was trying to cheat. But did I trust him enough to tell him? I guess that even if he did tattle on me to my father, I did hold more cards than him. I didn't think he was lying either. He was pleading with me, not merely asking. They were the pleas of a broken man looking for a way to redeem his good name before he died.

"Fine," I relented. "I am working for Araluen but I swear to Gorlog Riley, if you even think about telling anyone – including your father – I will cut your tongue out before you get the chance."

"Noted," Riley said with a smile. "So partners?" He led me up the side stairs and onto the battlements. It was dark but there was a lot of light from the lamps and fires that were lit at intervals. I was surprised at how many men were at duty this late at night.

I snorted. "We are not partners. I am in charge."

"Are you sure? What about that whole equality argument of yo…" Riley started, but I cut him off with a sharp jab to the ribs.

The drawbridge opened as an Iberian patrol returned back to the castle. It appeared like a normal enough occurrence and maybe it was only my brief Ranger training that had me questioning a few things from this distance. All the men were wearing red surcoats. Most were mounted but some riderless horses trailed behind on lead reins. The horses were mostly plain brown but one was midnight black and stirred a memory. Half a dozen men were on foot with their spears facing a man in the middle. His arms were bound and he stumbled a bit as he was poked and prodded.

When they clattered over the drawbridge a trumpet sounded three short bursts, rousing activity on the battlements.

"What does the trumpet mean?" I asked Riley, who was also staring into the courtyard curiously.

"Three bursts means they captured a prisoner to be questioned."

I ran down, with Riley at my heels.

There was something about that black battle horse but I knew it was impossible. There was no way it could be the same horse, or that his rider could be here. He would never come this way for me.

The prisoner was shoved forward and staggered until he fell on his knees. With his hands bound so tight he struggled to get back up on his feet but eventually managed. As soon as he was up he straightened with his shoulders back and his head held high.

I took in the Iberian uniform worn on top of glistening chain mail – made at the hands of the finest blacksmiths and nothing like the armour which common foot soldiers wore. The sheath for his sword still hung at his waist but was empty. His hands were bound with strips of leather and while he was at the centre of _el jefe's_ operations there was an air of hope around him. The cold wind ruffled through his dark hair as his determined features took everything in.

He turned and when those intelligent emerald eyes met my own, I lost function for a second.

He was here.

The bastard was here.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

His eyebrows knitted together the moment our eyes met across the courtyard.

Hazel and green. Eyes that had once stared into each other depths trying to discover secrets. Eyes that had flashed anger and hatred.

There seemed to be a hundred things running through his mind but then he made a decision and all hell broke loose.

"Thunder, buck!" He shouted.

Immediately the well-trained battle horse became a wild pony that had just been captured. The demon escaped hell and began kicking its back legs while snorting loudly. The others horses were spooked and I gaped as no less than two soldiers were bucked as their own horses began to follow Thunder's less than glamorous moment. Men were kicked and trampled. Horses bumped and injured each other. In a confined space, it was deadly. Thunder however, after starting the scene, calmly walked and stood at the side looking surprisingly dignified.

Meanwhile, Edmund with some sort of inhuman strength pulled his restraints apart. There was a clatter as he dropped a small blade and I noticed a trickle of blood run down his fingers. In the chaos he found his sword and then ran to me and grabbed my hand, while I just stared back in shock.

"Let's get out of here," he said, pulling me to Thunder.

"What are you doing?" Riley hissed. I honestly had no idea. This was the last thing that I had expected to happen.

"Edmund what are you doing?" I finally found some words.

"Getting you out of here," he answered, giving me that wicked grin as he wielded his longsword.

Suddenly the haze dissipated and everything became clear again. No, he couldn't save me. I didn't even need saving. I was in the middle of getting Araluen out of this mess and I didn't need his help. What happened to those accusations from a week ago? He couldn't just waltz in here on his horse and expect me to believe him and ride off into the sunset with him. Who did he think he was? Who did he think I was?

Neither of us had ever been calm and patient. We were both so volatile and passionate. He was always so wary of people trying to use him for his title and I was hesitant to let my guard down to anyone. What had happened that week ago had destroyed whatever was between us and neither of us were the type to forgive.

"I don't need rescuing," I said firmly. "And especially not from you."

"There isn't time for all that," Edmund insisted, pulling on my arm.

But it was too late.

Dozens of crossbows locked into place, the noise echoing through the early morning air. It was only then that Edmund stopped. Most of the horses had settled and the chaos was no more. The drawbridge had been hurriedly closed and there was no way he would be able to 'rescue' me anymore. The soldiers on the ground had drawn their weapons and then all eyes turned towards the Castle Keep door.

"What is happening here?" _El jefe_ demanded.

"The prisoner escaped," the leader of the patrol informed his commander.

"Anyone of importance?" _El jefe_ asked, mildly interested.

"The Príncipe de Araluen," came the answer.

 _El jefe's_ head immediately turned so that he could inspect Edmund for himself. Taking in his hold on the longsword, he looked suitably impressed.

"And what did you think you were doing, trying to escape from my heavily fortified castle?"

Edmund looked stunned to finally be face to face with his nations tormentor.

"I only wanted to rescue this prisoner of yours and then leave, _Señor Romero,"_ Edmund answered.

"What prisoner?"

Edmund took my hand in his before I could stop him. "Monique."

I didn't know what he expected. He was heavily outnumbered and there was no way he was getting out of here alive. Even if the entire Araluen army tried to lay siege to Castle Caraway it would be long and drawn out. His best option right now was life in the dungeon before being ransomed by Cassandra. I guess he thought that if he agreed not to bother _el jefe_ then he would be allowed out with me.

My father looked at Edmund and then at me and then at Edmund again. Then he let out a booming laugh.

"You're rescuing Monique?" he chuckled.

"Yes?" Edmund answered uncertainly.

"You mean you're rescuing my own daughter from me?"

Now the rest of the soldiers joined his laughter.

Edmund just stared at me, looking utterly lost.

"What's he talking about?" he asked, seeming to forget the fact that I had been standing in the middle of the courtyard completely unrestrained when he found me. I hadn't been in need of his rescuing in the first place.

I straightened my shoulders and looked him straight in the eye as I yanked my hand back. If there was ever a time to see how well I could play the devoted daughter of _el jefe,_ this was it. I could see my father watching. He wanted to see how loyal I was. Would I stick by his cause or bail for my Royal ex-boyfriend, the enemy? I knew that Edmund was a valuable political pawn who could easily be ransomed. They wouldn't kill him. I might have hated him, but that didn't mean I wanted to see him die.

"I am not Monique Bowman or Sarah Worth or whatever else I told you. Don't ever call me that again. My name is _Lady_ María Katalina Leonor of Aragon and of Romero. I am Iberian nobility and the favoured granddaughter of Lord Nicolás of the House Aragon and the granddaughter of the revered _Generalísimo_ Franco and daughter of _Generalísimo_ José both of the House Romero. I am not some street urchin that you and Will and Alyss and Cassandra took in and helped. I am Iberian nobility with an army at my father's fingertips. We are right at your doorstep and you better remember it," I declared with the best imitation of my mother. It felt good to list my power. Too good. I caught the worried look from Riley as if he was wondering if he had made a mistake regarding my loyalty and whether he had just doomed his entire family with his earlier admission.

Edmund just gaped.

"Look where we are now. You don't have all the power anymore. Remember all those things you accused me of? I bet you wish you had believed me now. It could have come in handy right but I don't need you or anyone else now," I said gesturing to the hundreds of men in uniform around us. "Who would have thought that the little thief from Caraway would end up here as a daughter of Iberion. I certainly didn't but I guess the gods have a sense of humour."

"You're his daughter. You're _el jefe's_ daughter," Edmund muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. It only took a few more moments for everything to sink in. The fact that I wasn't locked up in a dungeon currently. _El jefe's_ head still being attached to his shoulders.

I drew myself up to my full height and plastered on a sinister grin. At least I hoped it was sinister. From Riley's worried expression and my father matching grin I think I somehow succeeded.

"You're siding with him! After all we've done for you, you're siding with the man who kidnapped Daniel. Little Danny who has done nothing to anyone. A child! Don't you have a heart? That little boy adores you. And gods! He killed my uncle! He had the King of Araluen assassinated!" Edmund drew his sword and faced my father.

"I challenge you to a duel. You and me _Señor Romero_ for Araluen. You won't take this country while air still flows through my lungs and blood still courses through my veins," Edmund declared. I had to admit the bastard was brave, but stupid. Unbelievably stupid.

My father laughed. A cold laugh that sent a chill down my spine.

"The words of a boy. Only one facing certain death would gamble his life like that," he said before gazing up to his battlements.

"Archers at your ready. If he takes another step, _mátalo."_

"You think I'm afraid to die?" Edmund asked, his sword not moving an inch even after the threat on his life. "I would die for my country in a second."

"And what a shame it would be die while the woman who has your heart hates your very soul."

His gaze darted between me and my father and he looked like he had been punched in the gut – the life sucked out of him. The changes were almost imperceptible but I noticed them all keenly. At the words some of the light in Edmund's usually playful eyes faded. The grip on his sword lessened as if he realised that he had already lost the fight. Not the fight for Araluen, but the fight for me. He had come all this way as some sort of dramatic showcase of his love, but it was too late. His shoulders sagged and his jaw slackened.

"Put him in the dungeons," my father ordered. "He amuses me."

Edmund just stared at me as he was dragged away. I might have felt bad if it wasn't for the nod of approval from my father.

Now that he trusted me, the real fun could begin.

† † †

 _"_ _He's here?"_ Wolf growled and looked ready to run into the dungeons and maul off Edmund's face.

"Right down there in the dungeons," I replied.

My mind had been working overtime and after the events of the early morning I hadn't bothered to go back to bed.

My father trusted me after my earlier spiel. I had seemed drunk on my newfound power and a part of me was scared at the words that had flown so easily out of my mouth. How much of this was just an act and how much was some dark part of my soul wanting to finally have control and power over my own life and the lives of others? Now I could ask to be confidante to their plans. If I had exact numbers and the invasion schedule, it would be invaluable to Cassandra and her advisers.

Also I knew that if Edmund was here, Halt was likely to be nearby. If my plans to spy on behalf of Araluen were going to work I would need Halt to know the truth. I would have to find him today and luckily Mistress Danielle had said she would finish the first order of tunics by today. Even though they were supposed to be delivered I could easily just say that I wanted to inspect them myself before buying. He would be watching the castle entrance and if I gave him the opportunity to speak with me alone, he could easily take advantage of it and find me.

Then there was the question of Edmund. I had seen the shattered and confused look on his face when he had found out and now he was locked in the enemy's dungeons. I had heard my father discussing ransom possibilities but not anything immediate. He found it comical to see the prince of the country he was invading in love with his daughter – if it had been real love. I didn't want him to die but a part of me – a very bitter part – thought that perhaps this was a chance to get my revenge.

 _"_ _I didn't get to bite him enough,"_ Wolf complained.

"Don't worry, we're going to get our revenge on him," I said.

 _"_ _How?"_

"When he found out the truth he was devastated. Like my father said if he really loves me and I have his heart then perhaps I can take the opportunity to crush it."

 _"_ _I'm liking that smile."_

"What smile?" I said.

 _"_ _That smile of a scorned woman about to get her vengeance."_

† † †

Arriving at the stables adjoining the castle I felt my nose crinkle up. The unmistakable smell of animal waste hit me like a wall of fog. Walking inside, a dozen stable hands were running around trying to muck out stables, replace the hay and feed the horses. Caesar had been brought back to Caraway and I was yet to check on her. I perused the hundreds of stables, marvelling at the sheer size of the building. It was almost as big as the stables at Castle Araluen.

Giving up I finally decided to ask a stable hand about her whereabouts.

"The Ranger horse?" he asked and then realising who I was added a _milady_ to the end of his sentence. I almost snickered. Wolf didn't hide his amusement at all.

"Captain Riley's men brought her in a few days ago," I explained.

"She was the one with the bad leg and the disfigured hoof?"

I nodded, the guilt weighing my heart down like an anchor. I had been so selfish in my race to get to Caraway and prove myself that I hadn't cared about what could happen to Caesar.

"She didn't make it," he finally answered, his eyes looking anywhere but at me.

"What do you mean?"

"It was kinder this way. She was in a lot of pain," he explained.

"You killed her!?"

The stable hand took a step back, startled by my outburst.

"She passed away peacefully. We're not animals. And if you're going to blame anyone you should blame the rider who practically rode her to death."

"She was my horse," I said clenching my fists tighter. He scrambled backwards and I saw the horror dawn in his eyes. He had just blamed me, the daughter of _el jefe,_ for killing her own horse. I could see the thoughts racing through his mind. The fear of the consequences, what would happen to his family and the anger that he could just be stepped on by those who had just happened to be born into nobility.

Me, only a few days ago.

 _"_ _He didn't do anything wrong,"_ Wolf reminded me.

I shut my mouth and swallowed the tirade that was threatening to spill.

"Did you do it yourself?" I asked quietly.

He nodded. "I stroked her mane through the whole thing. She was awfully brave about it."

Wolf had warned me. He had told me to let her rest but I had been stubborn and pig headed, always wanting to get my own way. I had wanted to control something in my life after having everything taken away and I had just caused suffering to poor Caesar who had looked after me and tried her best. I wanted the stable hand to yell at me. I deserved a good tongue lashing.

Before I knew it a few mutinous tears were threatening to spill. I wiped my sleeve across my eyes and stood up straighter. I would not cry and have everyone think that I was weak.

"Has the Prince's stead been stabled here?" I asked.

"We rubbed him down last night and he's been resting." He pointed to a stable a few metres down.

"Good," I answered. "I want him saddled and ready for me as quickly as possible. I'm going into town." I figured that I would rather ride Thunder than some random horse and he was so tall that I could tower over the crowds and look down at them with an air of superiority. Also I could flaunt it in Edmund's face later on.

"Of course _milady_." He did a little bow before he scurried off and this time I let out a chuckle.

It only took a few minutes for Thunder to be lead out. The horse was so tall that I actually had to tilt my head upwards to look him in the eyes. He seemed to be raising an eyebrow at me, wondering what on earth I was doing and what had happened to his master.

The boy held out his hand, ready to assist me into the saddle but I ignored it. I put my right foot in the stirrup and pulled my left leg over the top, sitting quite comfortably to his surprise.

As I rode into town I listened hard for the sound of hooves behind me. If I was going to try and contact Halt I couldn't have anyone following me. Occasionally and sporadically I changed the gait at which we were going. It was a Ranger trick that Halt had taught me. If a rider was trying to follow you the main issue would be hiding the sounds of his horse and the best way to do that was to match gaits. Changing gaits gave me a small window to see if someone was in fact following. I doubted anyone would be and by the third gait change I was sure and could relax a little.

I had no idea where I would find Halt but I thought that maybe Victor's cottage might be a good place to start. I left Thunder a few hundred metres away while Wolf continued with me. I didn't bother to tie his reins knowing that he was well enough trained that he wouldn't stray. Unless perhaps his master came for him, but Edmund was trapped behind iron bars.

I crept through the undergrowth, keeping my footfalls light and trying to stay in the shadows. The morning sun made everything more difficult and I tried to keep behind trees. There was a light dusting of snow but nothing substantial. My soft boots barely made a sound and Wolf was even quieter. One foot at a time and slowly placing each one from heel to toe. It had become habit.

Finally, we reached the clearing. I expected to see the little Ranger cottage on the top of the hill but instead only saw a charred black remnant. The charming wooden house had been burnt to a crisp and all that remained was the stone fireplace and some beams of wood, leaning against each other at odd angles. I shouldn't have been surprised. This was exactly something that _el jefe_ would do.

I decided to circle the clearing in case Halt was waiting in the tree line. Wolf had gone off on his own to look for Halt. I knew he would probably have greater luck than me with his keen sense of smell.

All of a sudden I picked up a noise. It wasn't loud at all. Amongst all the other sounds of the forest I was surprised that I had noticed at all. It was out of place. That much I knew for certain. It wasn't the slight creaking of tree branches as the wind passed them, or the creatures that still scurried in the winter. I knew it was human and I had a feeling it was stalking me.

I jumped lithely into the shadows and then hugged my body against the side of a tree. I stayed absolutely still and only let my eyes move as the raked the hillside.

I couldn't see anything abnormal. Perhaps my instincts were wrong? It wasn't as if I had trained as a Ranger anyway. I was probably kidding myself, thinking that I had some sort of talent.

I huffed, annoyed at myself and as I did a callused hand clamped tightly over my mouth.

At least I had instincts, even if my foolishness was tenfold.


	15. Chapter 15

**To my beautiful readers.**

 **I never thought I would have to write out this message, but I guess the day has come. As of now** **I will not be finishing The Daughter of Iberion.** **It devastates me, but I honestly don't have the time anymore. When i started this story in 2012, I was 16 years old. It has been 5 years and I'm almost 21 years old now. I am super busy with university and work and volunteering that I barely have time to sit down and write anything at all. I still read quite a bit, but haven't read Ranger's Apprentice in years. This has made it really hard to write because you need an in depth knowledge of the world to write fanfiction and to portray the characters as accurately as possible.**

 **I'm not making this decision lightly. For about a year now i've been toying with this idea, but whenever its come down to it, I couldn't bear the thought of leaving Mon and Ed hanging, without their story being completed. But at the same time I knew their story would take hundreds of thousands more words to write, and I just don't have it in me.**

 **So i have decided on a compromise.**

 **I have a few half written chapters that i can post in their incomplete form. I also know exactly how Mon and Ed's story progresses. This coming week (or so) I will sit down and explain what happens to them. It will be in some detail because a number of scenes have been vividly written in my imagination already, it's just all the lead up and plotting that takes all the time that I do not have.**

 **So i did originally say that i would delete the Daughter of Iberion and instead integrate it into the Thief of Caraway, but i changed my mind hahah because i realised i would lose all your lovely reviews, which mean a lot to me!**

 **I am SOOO SORRY about this. I feel horrible, but i feel it's better for me to finish this with an actual ending, rather than leaving it hanging for years.**

 **This is not goodbye (yet). This is just me informing you of what is to come.**

 **I can only hope that you can forgive me.**

 **xx**

 **Mon**

* * *

Chapter 15

It took half a second for my instincts to kick in, but when they did I let loose the demon inside. Wandering around Araluen alone for three years with only my constant hunger as a compass had taught me how to get out of situations like this, especially in my younger years when I was desperate and stupid and had gotten caught more times than I could count.

I brought my boot straight down on the arch of his heal. Hearing a muffled cry, I reached into my scabbard for my weapons but before I could, a thick muscled arm wrapped around my middle, effectively pinning my arms to my sides. He thought he had trapped me, but there were other ways of causing pain.

I kicked, trying to get him in the shins while I wrenched my head from side to side. When that didn't work, I opened my mouth to try and take a bite of his hand in a move that Wolf would have wholeheartedly approved of and even given me pointers on. Somehow I managed to get a piece of flesh between my teeth and bit down, hard.

My captor pulled his hand away quickly, as if he had been burnt by a pot handle, and groaned in pain. I was just about to cut my losses and yell out for Wolf, when my captor finally spoke.

"It's me, Gilan," he said, his beard itching against my cheek. "There's no need to yell and alert the entire fief to our presence."

Immediately I stood still and Gilan let go of me. I turned to see him nursing his finger.

"Gorlog's teeth – pun intended – what on earth did the Iberian's do to you?" he asked, inspecting his wound carefully to see if I had drawn blood. "Turned you into a vicious animal."

"Why did you sneak up behind me like that?"

"It seemed like the quietest way to get your attention but evidently I was wrong. Why did you have to bite me?"

"You had your hand over my mouth and I was defending myself!" I said, justifying my actions. Now I just felt like an idiot. I should have known it was a Ranger. I should have been smarter.

"I guess that wasn't one of my smartest ideas," Gilan replied, giving me an easy smile when satisfied that he wasn't going to die. I hadn't even broken through skin, he was such a baby.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Well when Edmund got it in his head that he was going to rescue you, Cassandra sent the three of us with him."

"Will and Halt are here too?"

"Halt is here in Caraway. Will went back to Araluen to tell Cassandra about the invasion. We didn't realise that it had already happened. We've always been two steps behind it seems. What have you been doing the past week?"

"Where's Halt. I should probably explain to both of you at the same time. But I have to be quick and I can't be seen. I'll have to be back at Caraway in an hour," I said. Gilan raised an eyebrow but didn't comment as he led the way to Halt.

As he moved through the forest I tried to copy his actions. If only I had a mottled green-grey cloak it would be much easier. No wonder Gilan had been able to sneak up on me. He was the best unseen mover in the Ranger Corps and I had never even been apprenticed. To add insult to injury, my black cloak did barely anything in the morning light. We reached a small creak and Gilan easily ran across a fallen log that served as a makeshift bridge. I followed him, making the crossing without falling into the freezing water.

Finally, we reached the Ranger's camp. It was deep enough in the woods that I doubted any patrols would come this far. Even if they did, the Rangers could easily disappear without a trace.

Halt was making a pot of coffee on a small smokeless fire. Wolf was already lounging on the other side of the fire – the lazy mutt. He had just assumed that I would be fine with Gilan and couldn't be bothered leaving the warmth.

"I found her," Gilan declared, stepping out of the shadows so that Halt could clearly see him.

I stepped out from behind him and peered at Halt. His dark eyes were boring into mine. I wanted to look away but I didn't dare to. He was assessing me and seeing what had happened to me since I had last seen him. I didn't want to show even the slightest ounce of weakness. It had been my choice to leave and I wanted to show him that it had made me stronger somehow.

Finally, Gilan broke the silence.

"I don't know about you two but I would like a mug of that coffee. It's freezing out," Gilan said.

Halt took out three mugs without a word. Taking out a small glass jar he added three heaped spoons of honey straight into the pot, knowing that the two of us wouldn't complain. I was surprised at his generosity. Halt usually was stingy when it came to his precious honey. He swirled the pot around and when satisfied poured it into the mugs. I took the proffered coffee and felt the heat lace around my fingers like a pair of woollen gloves. I took a seat beside Halt and took a sip, scalding my tongue but relishing the sweet taste.

Halt didn't say anything, waiting for me to explain. It was obvious that something was up. I was here but Edmund wasn't and he had come to retrieve me.

" _El jefe_ is my father," I said. "I didn't know until I was captured and Riley took me to Castle Caraway."

I didn't know what to expect. My father had done so much damage. He had hurt so many and killed many more. They had taken care of me while my father had terrorised _their_ country. The country they had risked their lives on countless occasions for. The country they had sworn their lives to. Halt and Gilan had every right to be angry with me, just as Edmund did.

My declaration was met with silence. Halt just continued to sip his coffee. He didn't ask if I was a traitor. He didn't ask if this was some sort of ambush. I guess he could read it in my face. He had always been able to see right through me. The first time we had met he had already guessed my deepest secrets.

Gilan, on the other hand, looked like his mouth was going to burst from the need to ask questions, but he was trying to keep quiet as he glanced as his former mentor.

"Riley?" Halt finally asked.

"He and his father have been the inside men the entire time, undermining Baron Quinn and finding ways to get the Iberian army in. You won't be able to defeat them without the full force of the Araluen army. There's so many of them and even more are probably coming in the spring."

"Yes we saw the fleet last night," Halt said. "And where's Edmund? Captured I assume?"

"They're not going to kill him," I said quickly. "If they were I would have helped him escape. They'll probably ransom him eventually."

"Well that's a relief at least," Gilan put in. "If not Cassandra would have had us beheaded for losing him."

"Is there any way we could get him out?" Halt asked.

"I could probably get him out. _El jefe_ trusts me now I think. I fought for him and then refused to escape with Edmund. But if I get Edmund out then I won't be able to help anymore."

"And what did you have in mind?"

"I could be a spy for you and send you information about their numbers and plans. As it is, even if we lay siege to Caraway we're in trouble. The army won't be able to travel through the snow and by the time they arrive the King will send reinforcements by sea. The more Cassandra knows, the better it will be."

"There's going to be a war, isn't there," Gilan said quietly.

I nodded grimly. "I don't know exactly what King Fernando wants but they are prepared for a war. This isn't some spur of the moment decision. My father has been preparing for this for more than ten years and before that my grandfather tried to invade Araluen but failed."

"Your family seems intent on disturbing the peace," Gilan noted.

I shrugged. "And here I thought I was some street urchin."

Halt stroked his beard, lost in thought. Both Gilan and I looked at him expecting him to impart some sort of wisdom to the situation. He was a veteran of decades of battles. Halt had been part of the reason Araluen had won the first war against Morgarath and since then had saved numerous other countries from invasion. If there was anyone who would know what to do, it was him.

Finally, Halt looked up. "Land. That's what he's after. On the continent there is always the risk of invasion from military powers but Araluen has always been isolated by sea."

"But he could always invade Gallica or Teutlandt? Wouldn't that be easier?" Gilan asked.

"Perhaps but the Kings of Iberion have always been stubborn like that. You said that your grandfather had tried to invade Araluen before?" Halt asked and I nodded. "His father must have failed so King Fernando won't let his father's plan be pushed aside. Also Iberion has always wanted to expand into an empire, to flex their military strength."

"An empire?" I asked.

Halt looked at me grimly. "The only title better than King is Emperor. The prospect of unrivalled power can turn a man insane." He picked up a stick and drew a crude map of Araluen and the Continent in the dirt.

"If he controls Araluen then he controls the waters from the Narrow Sea to the Narrows of Ikbar. His fleet would be unstoppable and he would control the trade routes. Gallica has always been weak without a leader to unite the warring Dukes so they couldn't stop him. The King of Iberion would be a very rich man."

"And what would happen to Araluen then?"

"We'd be an occupied state. He would install one of his own lackey's as Lord of Araluen and send in his troops."

"Surely our army would eliminate them?" Gilan said.

Halt shook his head. "Not necessarily. If he has an invading fleet – that is, an armada – then we would struggle because they would just arrive all along our coast. And this would be a bigger army than Morgarath's armed with weapons and armour and catapults."

My mind was elsewhere. "So my father would be Lord of Araluen?"

"Since he's been here for so many years it would make sense," Halt affirmed.

"And if he becomes Lord, then what would happen to Cassandra and Madelyn and Horace?"

Halt's dark eyes met mine. "The Royal family would be the first to go."

I immediately felt sick. The entire prospect was overwhelming. I could just imagine my father, a cruel overlord. Yes, most of Araluen would be undisturbed, but the leadership structure would be decimated. I could see the army marching upon the soaring white spires of Castle Araluen as a crimson river of blood flowed from the moat. Halt, Gilan and Will and all the rest of the Rangers. Horace would fight till his last breath trying to protect his wife and daughter and unborn child. Edmund would rot in the damp dungeon or be cut down with his cousin.

Wolf lifted his head and placed it on my lap reassuringly. _"You won't let that happen."_

He was right. I could really make a difference here. I wasn't going to let some maniac with visions of unparalleled power ruin so many lives.

"What can I do?"

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 **sorry that was shorter than usual, but i really got stuck on this chapter so thought i would just post it. The continuation should be coming soon! I am dot pointing a lot, but some parts i am fleshing out in quite a bit of detail**

 **xx**


	16. Chapter 16

**This is an amalgamation of a few chapters, but there were a couple of scenes that I really had to write.**

 **WARNING: there is torture in this chapter, so if you don't want to read i would advise skipping from "Mon's father sends her..." onwards**

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Chapter 16

· After speaking to Halt and Gilan, Mon goes back to Caraway so that she can continue spying on _el jefe_ and every few days she sneaks out to pass any information to the Rangers who then relay this to Castle Araluen

· Everly helps Mon get dressed etc. and is quite talented in doing her hair into practical braids or pulled back. Mon tries to taunt Edmund by pretending to have feelings for Riley and she can see the storm behind his eyes as she hangs onto Riley's arm and can't help being amused. And given his words just before she left Castle Araluen, he can't really do anything about it and spends a lot of time pacing around his cell

· Mon continues to train and also gets Riley to teach her how to read and write

· _El jefe_ sends a message to Araluen stating that King Fernando would like to discuss terms of surrender. He wants Cassandra to sail to Iberion to speak to the King directly in a power play. If she does, he says that he will hand over Edmund, otherwise he will remain in the dungeons under Caraway

· In Araluen, Cassandra receives these demands about a week after Will returns. A part of her wants to go to Iberion but all her advisors remind her that she can't give into demands. She is the Queen now and no longer a Princess, and not only that but she's with child so her doctors advise against it. Horace does his best to calm her but Cassandra feels absolutely lost. She wants to send her armies to stamp out the threat once and for all but it will take months to organise the army and even longer to traverse the snows. She also wants to do whatever it takes to get Edmund back but she knows that if she does so, she will harm her unborn child. In the end she refuses on the advice of Sir Geoffrey who takes an especially harsh stance

· When _el jefe_ gets the news of this outright refusal during dinner with Mon, he is absolutely furious. Mon is scared that he'll start destroying things, but something just as scary is his quiet anger, which is so calculating. Mon eventually calms him down and has to reveal that Cassandra is with child, so she would never travel to Iberion herself anyway

As my father opened the sealed piece of parchment and began to read through, I knew exactly what Cassandra's answer was without seeing the words myself. I shouldn't have expected anything less. A red tinge began to creep up _el jefe's_ neck and onto his face. His thick eyebrows lowered as his eyes flickered back and forth. When he finished he just stared at the words for a second, clenched his jaw and then scrunched up the parchment and threw it across the room. Even though I knew it couldn't hurt me, as it hit the opposite wall, I flinched. The rage in his eyes. That level of anger that could drive a man to kill, took me back. Before I knew what I was doing, I was perched on the edge of my chair, ready to run at the next sign of his anger.

I was no longer a young woman who had spent years independent and looking after herself. I was a little girl hiding in a corner, desperately hoping that her drunkard parents would forget that she existed. And above all I was ashamed. Ashamed that I wasn't brave enough to trust myself.

· Mon's father sends her to tell Edmund the bad news

I leaned against the wall outside Edmund's cell using a small knife to dig the dirt out from under my nails. Riley stood behind me with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Cassandra refused," I said, trying my best to sound haughty and superior. "She wouldn't even enter into negotiations to save your life. Apparently blood is not thicker than water for you Araluens."

"I didn't expect anything else," Edmund said, not even bothering to sit up. "She's not going to surrender to Iberion for me. On her coronation day she swore to govern the Peoples of Araluen against any threat. It is her duty as Queen. I would never let her betray all her people by entering into negotiations for surrender just to save my sorry ass."

Quietly he added, "nor risk the life of her unborn babe."

A part of me broke at that. It hurt to see such a proud family defeated. I just wanted to be out there with Halt and Gilan actually fighting against the Iberians, but here I was inflicting pain and anguish just to learn little secrets.

A commotion sounded from the staircase and I turned to see a small contingent of soldiers walking towards Edmund's cell.

"What are your orders?" Riley asked.

"To retrieve the _príncipe_ for _el jefe,"_ a guard answered, unlocking the cell. "Up."

Surprisingly Edmund complied, putting his arms in front of him so that he could be tied up. Why wasn't he fighting back? Had they broken him already?

"What are you doing with him?" Riley continued.

The guards looked at each other uncertainly, unsure whether they should divulge such information.

"Answer him," I ordered, boring straight into the captain's eyes until he lowered his gaze.

" _Le van a azotar,"_ the captain answered finally and I saw Edmund immediately pale. Why did everyone have to answer me in Iberian when they knew I could barely understood?

"In the common tongue!" I snapped.

"They're going to whip him," the captain translated. Gorlog's beard and claws. I had to force myself to stand still and not look too shocked. They couldn't do that. I prayed that they wouldn't. It made me feel sick.

"Where is my father?"

"In the courtyard."

I took the steps two at a time and Riley followed alongside me.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Stopping this. I don't like Edmund, but I won't let them whip him. That's just inhumane and wrong," I hissed back.

"You'll give everything away," Riley said. "You can't do anything to stop this unless you want to free Edmund and try and fight five hundred men to escape Caraway."

"I will speak to my father and convince him that there's a better way," I insisted. Why was Riley so infuriating? He had never really liked Edmund and had spent years as a traitor. He didn't know anything about honour. But a part of me knew that he was probably right. Knowing my father, there was nothing much to be done during his fits of anger.

"What better way?"

"I don't know Riley," I hissed. "Something that won't peel the skin off Edmund's back." I had seen it before. In some of the outer fiefs where the justice system didn't operate under the steady gaze of the crown, corporal punishment was still prevalent. I would never forget what I had seen only a few months after I had run away from home. An older boy had gotten greedy and stolen gold from a jeweller. He had been whipped within an inch of his life in the middle of town. His back had been absolutely destroyed and his piercing screams sent almost everyone watching to tears. For a few days I had decided against stealing, but then my growling stomach triumphed. I never strayed too far out of the King's jurisdiction after that.

In the courtyard, a crude wooden structure had been constructed atop a platform. Hundreds of soldiers milled around as did servants and villagers. The ramparts were filled with archers, cross bows ready to fire upon anyone who dared to stray out of line. I could hear the villagers murmuring to themselves, wondering who was going to be whipped. Most expected it to be Baron Quinn or soldiers still loyal to the crown.

My father stood to one side, quietly talking to Silvana. When she saw me staring, she quickly bowed her head and then walked so that she was standing on the opposite side of the platform, with an unnerving smirk in my direction.

I tried not to look too concerned as I crossed the yard, adjusting my turquoise tunic and tucking a loose curl behind my ear.

"Daddy what's happening?" I asked.

 _El jefe_ chuckled lightly. "A good old-fashioned whipping."

"So it's true," I accused. Riley cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"It will serve dual purposes. Firstly, the people of Caraway will get a demonstration of Iberian superiority. Secondly, the Queen of Araluen will know that we mean business and are not to be trifled with," he answered, cold and emotionless.

"You're going to kill him?" I asked, feeling my voice break at the end. I couldn't let him die. I hated him, but I wouldn't let him die.

"Of course not. What purpose would that serve? A blood-soaked prince is more valuable than a dead one. When he's dead, his pain is over but as long as he's alive I can hurt their queen by hurting him."

I could taste the bile at the back of my throat. The crowd suddenly became restless and I looked up to see the guards dragging Edmund towards the platform. He blinked as the sun pierced his eyes after so many days underground. Seeing the residents of Caraway – his people – Edmund immediately straightened and walked a little faster so that he was no longer being dragged along.

"Prince Edmund Oswald Mathias of Araluen," Silvana declared. "Our prisoner."

The gasp was audible. In the daylight he looked worse for wear. Edmund's hair was flattened across his brow, longer than usual and his jaw was covered with scruffy stubble. His shirt which had once been pristine white was now dirty brown and torn in places. Most of these people had never seen the members of the Royal Family, but they recognised the name and even if Edmund didn't look princely at the moment there was something noble about that unwavering walk.

"I know you might have loved him, but this needs to be done," my father said. "I won't force you to watch though, if you don't want to."

I looked at my father, surprised at his words and the choice he gave me. But I knew that I had to stay, if only to make sure my father kept his promise and didn't kill Edmund. The soldiers tied Edmund's hands to a pole so that he was standing with his arms above his head. They then ripped away his shirt, exposing his muscled back.

Riley's father approached the stocks. His steps were heavy and his shoulders were hunched – another sick game from _el jefe_ just when he had been understanding half a second ago. It wasn't enough to make Captain Grant a traitor, he was going to make him whip a member of the family he had sworn his life to.

"It never ends," Riley murmured so quietly that I almost didn't pick it up. He was right. The moment they had begun their treachery, they had signed off on a life sentence.

Captain Grant held a leather whip in his hand, the end embedded with sharp nails. Gorlog's breath.

Edmund turned his head at the sound of the whip cutting through the air. I could see the horror in his emerald eyes as he tried to swallow down his fear. I had to stop my fingers from reaching for my knives. All I wanted to do was cut him free. He had betrayed me in the worst way a few weeks ago, but no one deserved to be whipped like this. _El jefe_ hadn't even set a number of lashes. This whole situation made me sick. I knew that if I was the one in stocks, Edmund would never let anyone lay their hands on me. He would rush forward, sword in hand, and kill anyone who tried to hold him back. He would either save me or die trying. He would probably still do it today, even though my father was invading his country and mercilessly killing his people. But if I tried to rescue him what would be the point. I would be tied up next to him and Araluen would fall. I mean my contribution probably wasn't that important, but any bit of information could turn the tide of the war. I could help save his country but at what price?

I offered up a prayer to Grandmamma's God, that I wasn't losing a part of myself. I hoped that they would forgive me for this. For standing by and letting their cousin, uncle and friend be tortured.

CRACK.

The whip rang through the courtyard and the soldiers jeered from the sidelines. Edmund's skin split and blood began to run down his back. He bit his lip, refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. He held his head up and spat on the cobblestones, the picture of a noble prince. Children whimpered in the crowd but when they saw how their prince took this torture, they quickly quieted down.

CRACK.

I winced at the noise but tried not to show any emotion. My eyes met Riley's. He looked as if he was waiting for a signal from me. It took everything in me not to stop it.

CRACK.

 _El jefe_ looked entirely too pleased with himself. He was glancing from Edmund's back to the towns people who were absolutely horrified. Silvana's purple stained lips curled in satisfaction. I hated that woman.

After a while the sounds of the whip began to blur into one. Edmund's once smooth skin was ravaged, as pieces of flesh began to hang off and the wooden platform stained red with royal blood. At each crack of the whip, my heart lurched and at each slap against his skin, it felt like a part of my soul was being ripped away. The battle raged inside. Who was I as a person if I could just stand by and watch an innocent man be tortured?

Soon each slap of the whip was met with a whimper. They were quiet at first but soon Edmund's resolve crumbled. As the whip began to tear into the softer flesh below, reopening the earlier wounds, he cried out. The utter agony on his lips pierced through me. I could taste the bile of my lips. I needed to throw up. This was too much. I didn't want to watch anymore.

The soldiers laughed as his cries, taunting him in Iberian. I knew that he understood every word hurled his way

 _Bastardo._

 _Débiles._

 _Hijo de las mil putas._

He couldn't hold himself up anymore and his body hung limply from the wooden frame, as angry red straps criss-crossed across his back. Edmund turned his head towards me, grunting at the effort. I could tell that he was trying to memorise my features. Why? I didn't understand. I was betraying him and his country. How could he even bear to look at me?

My father's words echoed through my ears; " _and what a shame it would be to die while the woman who has your heart, hates your very soul."_

I heard sobs from the crowd and turned to see both men and women with tears running down their cheeks. They weren't ashamed to show how they felt at this atrocity. Meeting Edmund's gaze with my own I let the tears fall down my cheeks. I didn't care if _el jefe_ thought it was weak or Silvana jeered. Seeing Edmund suffer like that hurt me. I wished that someone I could share the burden.

None of this was fault. He was being whipped because of the title his mother held. There was no other reason. And because of who his mother was, he felt like he had a responsibility to take this punishment without a sound. That it was somehow his duty and by whimpering he was tarnishing his name.

With one fleeting look Edmund's eyes closed and his head hung forward.

"Stop before you kill him!" I yelled, rushing forward. I was probably too late. Oh gods. Oh gods. I felt the arms of guilt wrap around my throat, cutting off my air supply. I choked on air and tripped over my own feet. What had I done?

Silvana chuckled darkly. "He passed out. No need to worry yourself _Lady_ Monique."

 _El jefe_ ignored me and turned to Captain Grant whose face was white at what he had just been forced to do.

"Put the bloodied whip in a crate. We will show it to Queen Cassandra and she will cooperate with us. Take him back to the dungeons," _el jefe_ ordered, walking back to the castle keep as if he had just finished a routine inspection and hadn't been overseeing torture.

Silvana stood on the platform beside Edmund and started talking to the crowd about how they should be afraid of the Iberian's, but I could barely concentrate. All I could see was Edmund, absolutely dripping in blood – there couldn't be much left in his body. My feet followed the soldiers who had untied him and were dragging him away.

"Lift him properly," I barked and Riley took over, putting one of Edmund's arms over his shoulder. "Someone get Mistress Hattie or the village apothecary."

"Who?" one of the guards asked. He looked as if he wouldn't bother bringing either, even if he knew who they were.

"Find them now, or I will tie you to the back of my horse and drag you all the way to Norgate," I warned. I must have looked fiercer than I felt because the man immediately scurried off with a mumbled apology.

"And someone get clean linens and strong spirits," I ordered. I didn't even know what I was doing, but Edmund wasn't going to die while I was here.

When all the soldiers had left, I doubled over and threw up the entire contents of my stomach.


End file.
